Bridget O'malley

Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shakenWith a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to knowIt's the wonders of adoration your quiet face has takenAnd your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.The white moon above the pale sands, the pale stars above the thorn treeAre cold beside my darling, but no purer than sheI gaze upon the cold moon til the stars drown in the warm seaAnd the bright eyes of my darling are never on me.My Sunday it is weary, my Sunday it is grey nowMy heart is a cold thing, my heart is a stoneAll joy is dead within me, my life has gone away nowAnother has taken my love for his own.The day it is approaching when we were to be marriedBut it's rather I would die than live only to grieveOh, meet me my darling ere the sun sets o'er the barleyAnd I'll meet you there, on the road to Drumslieve.Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shakenWith a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to knowit's the wonders of adoration youre quiet face has takenand your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.