I heard the Poor Old Woman say:"At break of day the fowler came,
And took my blackbirds from their
Who loved me well thro' shame and blame No more from lovely
Their songs shall bless me mile by mile,
Nor to white Ashbourne call me
To wear my crown another while.
With bended flowers the angels
For the skylark the place they lie,
From there its little
Shall dip their wings first in the sky.
And when the first suprise of
Sweet songs excite, from the far
Shall there come blackbirds loud with love,
Sweet echoesmof the singers gone.
But in the lovely hush of
Weeping I grieve the silent bills"I heard the Poor Old Woman
In Derry of the little hills.
