In southern seas we sailed, my lov… In southern seas. Death joined no chorus as the wave… No storm hid in the breeze. Low keeled our boat until her whit…

WHAT is balm for a soul distress… ‘€œA good ship in a fighting wind… The leaping timbers ‘neath your fe… Never soul could mourn, my sister,… What is joy for a stricken heart,…

Mo páistin deas, I did not know How cold the winter’s blast could… Into her heart, with what despair Earth drew her bloom and blossom f… How lone a man might come and go

How I hate the sparrows, the spar… In and out and round the house all… Chirping shrill and fussy birds, w… Chittering and chattering, yet hav… How I love the swallows, the swal…

Build no roof-tree over thee, Raise nor wall nor rafter, Like the swallows in the eaves, Care will follow after. Lend thy ear unto no voice

The Dean of Santiago on his mule Rode quick the Guadalquivir banks… He had no eye the veiling eve to l… No ear to listen for the bird’s la… Gold mist and purple of the settin…

He on his man-child laid a soothin… And hushed him into slumber, singi… For thee the world was made and fo… With this thy heritage, why dost t… ’For thee the mother bird on her s…

Sing a song for Evaleen, only two… Running laughing on life’s path in… Christ-Child, Whom on Mary’s kne… Let Thy little angels come with t… One to guide her either hand, so w…

She had hair gold as her father’s… She tripped and sung, Like to a little lamb new-born, So gay, so young. She gathered lone in the long day’…

Some on the pleasant hillside have… As flings a cloud before the sun a… They praised thy fairness and held… They only saw thy shade, Kathleen… Some on the purple mountains stood…

Brian O’Byrne of Omah town In his garden strode up and down; He pulled his beard, and he beat h… And this is his trouble and woe co… ‘The good-folk came in the night,…

I’m out with all the world to-day, So all the world to me is grey, Ah me! the bonny world. Glad birds are building in the tre… For them I have no sympathy;

Who was stealing the Baron’s wine… Golden sherry and port so old, Precious, I wot, as drops of gold… Lone to-night he came to dine, Flung himself in his oaken chair,

When summer comes, then you are ne… I feel your phantom presence on my… In every wind the dead year speaks… And every scene springs up to take… ’Twas such a day, as sweet a wind…

A miller’s daughter, as I heard t… Sing heigh! but the maid was merry… Was loved by her father’s man full… His cheek was brown as a berry. He made the grey mare fast to her…