Friday, February 11, 2011


The Wind That Shakes The Barley 
Lyrics by Robert Dwyer Joyce   

I sat within a valley green
Sat there with my true love
  My fond heart strove to choose between
The old love and the new love  
The old for her, the new that made
Me think of Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glade
And shook the golden barley

Twas sad the mournful words to frame
To break the ties that bound us
Ah, but harder still to bear the shame
Of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen
I'll seek at morning early
And join the brave united men"
While soft wind shook the barley

Twas sad I kissed away her tears
Her arms around me clinging
When to my ears that fateful shot
Come out the wildwood ringing
The bullet pierced my true love's breast
And there upon my breast she died
In life's young spring so early
While soft wind shook the barley

I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse  
Then rushed o'er vale and valley
My vengeance on the foe to wreak
 Twas blood for blood without remorse 
I took at Oulart Hollow
I placed my true love's clay-cold corpse
Where mine full soon may follow

 While soft wind shook the barley

I bore her to some mountain stream
And many's the summer blossom
I placed with branches soft and green
About her gore-stained bosom

Around her grave I wander drear
Noon, night and morning early
With aching heart when e'er I hear

The wind that shakes the barley