Anna Johnston MacManus

1866-1902 / Ireland

The Sad Song Of Finian

I was sent adrift on the waves of the world,
Ochón! ochón!
All for the sake of the yellow-curled
Slender girl that I wished my own.

I wandered East and I wandered West,
Ochón! ochón!
And never saw sloe-blossom white as her breast,
Though the heart in under is hard as a stone.

I was scourged by the cruel Red Wind o' the Hills,
Ochón! ochón!
I lay all night in the mist that chills,
And to God and Mary I made my moan.

I saw through the dark her eyes aglow,
Ochón! ochón!
Shadowy, shimmering like the flow
Of running water o'er rock moss-grown.

I saw through the dark the shine of her hair,
Ochón! ochón!
It floated over and round me there–
A golden web down the silence blown.

I saw through the dark her rowan-hued lips,
Ochón! ochón!
Her cheek, soft-curving, whose young blush slips
Into the snow 'bove her kerchief shown.

My Star of Knowledge! my Flower of Grace!
Ochón! ochón!
Tis she has left me in woeful case,
With empty arms to lament alone.

I wander North and I wander South,
Ochón! ochón!
In the veins of my heart is a burning drouth,
And love for her tortures my every bone.

I am adrift on the waves of the world–
Ochón! ochón!
Tossed by the storm, by the green seas whirled,
All for the sake of the yellow-curled
Slender girl that I wished my own.
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