| lyric | 1. I'm sitting in the stile, Mary where we sat side by side,
On a bright May morning long ago, when first you were my bride;
The corn was springin fresh and green, and the lark sang loud and high,
And the red was in your lips, Mary, and the lovelight in your eye.
The place is littlke chang’d, Mary, the day is bright as then,
The lark’s loud song is in my ear, and the corn is greenn again,
But I miss the soft clasp of your hand and the breath warm on your cheek,
And I still keep list’ning to the words you never more ay speak.
2. I’m very lonely now, Mary,- the poor make no new friends,
But oh they love the better still the few our Father sends;
And you were all I had, Mary, my blessing and my pride!
There’s nothing left to care for now since my poor Mary died.
I’m bidding you a long farewell, my Mary kind and true,
But I’ll not forget you, darlin’, in the land I’m going to.
They say there’s bread and work for all, and the sun shines always there,
But I’ll ne’er forget old Ireland, were it fifty times as fair. |