The Fanaid Grove

'Twas on a winter's ev'ning,

When first came down the snow,

O'er hills and lofty mountains

The stormy winds did blow;

A damsel she came tripping down

All in a drift of snow,

With a baby in her snow white arms

She knew not where to go.

“Hard hearted was my father

That shut the door on me,

And more so was my mother

For plainly she did see”

“That dark and stormy was the night,

It pierced my heart with cold.

And cruel was that false young man

That sold his love for gold.”

Unto a quiet grove she went

And there did she kneel down,

Turning her eyes to heaven,

In sorrow she made moan.

She kissed her baby's cold, cold lips

And laid it by her side,

And in that silent Fanaid grove

In lonely grief she died.