(My Black Slender Boy).

My Black Slender Boy, as you step on your way
To the dewy-wet fields at the dawning of day;
My heart in my dreams hears the ring of your shoe,
And roams in the dawn through the clover with you.

My Black Slender Boy!–on my father's grass browse
Of sheep a full hundred, and twenty fine cows,
And my mother has webs of blue woollen go leor,
And linen and gold for my fortune, a stor.

My Black Slender Boy, you have nothing but health–
Yet your diamonds of eyes are far rarer than wealth;
Your mouth of white pearls, and your locks of the jet
Would buy all my fortune and leave me in debt.

My Black Slender Boy, though my father may frown,
And my proud mother pass you with scorn in the town,
While they bargain at making a match for me there,
With Red Ulic Keown in the heat of the fair–

I love you the more, Love, because of their hate,
If you whispered me 'Come,' I would fly to you straight,
Ay, over the bog to you, jewel of mine–
And leave them their pride, and their gold, and their kine.

But what can a poor colleen do till you speak?
With your hand in my hand, and your kiss on my cheek,
I would wander the world with you, singing for joy,
My store-house of treasure, my Black Slender Boy.