The Colleen Rue (The Red-haired Girl)

F. Allitsen

As I went walking by hill and lea,

The birds were talking in bower and tree;

The birds were singing so kind and true,

And the song they sang was of Colleen Rue.

The doves were preening them in a grove,

Each grey companion beside its love;

The low love-crooning my ear unto

Did whisper love of the Colleen Rue.

The bee for honey afar will roam,

Heavy and bonny he flies for home.

No palest honey the rose can brew,

Excels the sweets of the Colleen Rue.

Like flax-flowers growing her radiant eyes,

Like poppies blowing her cheeks' rare dyes;

Both sun and starlight I'd give them too

For the proud, kind smile of the Colleen Rue.

But if in Connaught I only were,

My hand upon it I give and swear,

Kisses a hundred, not one or two,

Would win me love of the Colleen Rue.

O while I wander so far away,

I dream and ponder the live-long day

On stately bearing and eyes of blue,

And the deep, deep heart of the Colleen Rue.