Nora Lynch, song

Pat McGonigle (James Eoghain), singing in English
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When I was a lad without care or sorrow
I had a tidy farm in a mountain glen
With cattle sheep and a neat thatched cottage
And a maid to love I was happy then.

Listening all day to the cuckoo calling
Ploughing my fields by the river’s edge
Looking across the fields at twilight
While the blackbird piped from a blossomed hay.

Listening at night to the corncrakes calling
In meadows wet with the dews of June
And the wistful croon of that winding river
Murmuring under a summer’s moon.

Dearest of all was on Sunday morning
The dew still wet on the corn and grass
Tripping along with a group of neighbours
Over the fields to early mass.

Nora Lynch was a farmer’s daughter
The finest girl in the glen was she
Though many’s a man in marriage sought her
For none of them did she care but me.

Many’s a night in her father’s cottage
We laughed and talked through the evening’s light
Then foddering time when you’d scamper homewards
Over the fields in the dews of night.

Till I left my farm my house and horses
To cross the seas then my trials began
I am now alone in a foreign city
And my Nora’s married to another man.