He comes from the mountains green
To the yellow shore:
A thousand years he's seen,
And a thousand more.
His hair is dark as the night,
And gray as the sea
Are the wonderful eyes whose light
Grows soft for me.
Hugh of the Hill has seen
Colleens galore,
Barefooted on the green
Edge of the shore.
Now they are laid away
Under the earth,
Grow neither sad nor gay
For a fairy's mirth.
Hugh of the Hill has made
Some sore hearts glad;
He has bidden the strong be afraid
And the merry sad.
He has given fairy gold
To the miser's store:
He has kissed the warm mouth cold
And the light heart sore.
Hugh of the Hill, I know,
Loves me to-day.
It is not he will go,
Grown tired, away.
But I shall go from the hearth
That 's mine no more
To the quiet bosom of Earth
That is cradle and door.
Hugh of the Hill, to-night
Is mine alone.
Kiss me, and hold me tight,
Lest I be gone
Into a chamber dark,
Where you cannot come,
Where you shall call and hark,
And I lie dumb.
Now I can hold you close
And answer and hear,
And kiss as a woman knows
When her heart holds fear.
So short is my time to flower,
So long you will
Seek love, and be glad but an hour,
Hugh of the Hill!