There were three jovial Welchmen,
As I've heard them say,
And they would go a-hunting
Upon St David's day.
All the day they hunted,
And nothing could they find,
But a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing with the wind.
One said it was a ship,
The other said, nay;
The third said it was a house,
And the chimney blown away.
And all the night they hunted,
And nothing could they find,
But the moon a-gliding,
A-gliding with the wind.
One said it was the moon
The other said, nay;
The third said it was a cheese,
And half o't cut away.
LAMENT OF A MOTHER, WHOSE
CHILD WAS STOLEN BY FAIRIES
_From the Gaelic._
I left my bairnie lying here,
Lying here, lying here;
I left my bairnie lying here,
To go and gather blaeberries.
I've found the wee brown otter's track,
Otter's track, otter's track;
I've found the wee brown otter's track,
But cannot trace my bairnie, O!
I found the swan's track on the lake,
On the lake, on the lake;
I found the swan's track on the lake,
But cannot trace my bairnie, O!
I found the track of the yellow fawn,
Yellow fawn, yellow fawn;
I found the track of the yellow fawn,
But cannot trace my bairnie, O!
I found the trail of the mountain mist,
Mountain mist, mountain mist;
I found the trail of the mountain mist,
But cannot trace my bairnie, O!
This is my birthday, do you know?
Once I was four, that's long ago;
Once I was three, and two, and one,
Only a baby that could not run.
Now I am five, so old and so strong,
I could run races all the day long!
And I mean to grow bigger, and stronger, and older,
Some day perhaps I shall be a brave soldier.
I think I'm the happiest boy alive!
Oh, wouldn't you like to be me--now I'm five?