My love’s an arbutus
By the borders of Lene,
So slender and shapely
In her girdle of green
And I measure the pleasure
Of her eye’s sapphire sheen
By the blue skies that sparkle
Through the soft branching screen.
But though ruddy the berry
And snowy the flower,
That brighten together
The arbutus bower,
Perfuming and blooming
Through sunshine and shower,
Give me her bright lips
And her laugh’s pearly dower.
Alas! fruit and blossom
Shall scatter the lea,
And Time’s jealous fingers
Dim your young charms, Machree.
But unranging, unchanging,
You’ll still cling to me,
Like the evergreen leaf
To the arbutus tree.
From: Graves, Alfred Perceval, Father O’Flynn, and Other Irish Lyrics, 1889, Swan Sonnenschein & Co: London, pp. 64-65.
(https://archive.org/stream/fatheroflynnothe00gravrich#page/64/mode/2up)
Date: 1889
By: Alfred Perceval Graves (1846-1931)
From Troubles of The World 