Henry's Songbook

It was out in the long spring grass, she said
And the night was soft on the hill
He touched my ear with his voice, she said
And my blood ran sweet and chill
I laugh in my sleep at their gibes, she said
Though they call me old maid still

I have seen them sprinkled, weaned and loved
The young girls fondled and wed
I've watched their dreams go as grey as the hair
That the limpin' sheepdogs shed
But mine are as green as the tall pines
That lean by Loch Erne head

And he never came back to my father's byre
Yet on an April night
When the moon sits pat on a scudding cloud
And the stars are quick and white
I have known his clutch like a cloak of pyre
And his limbs like swords of light

And my eyes wet by the fire, she said
But not with lust or shame
I mourn no shepherd laid low on the hill
I weep in the starry flame
With the joy of what I can never lose
But what I dare not name

It was out in the long spring grass, she said

(as sung by Archie Fisher)