The Curragh Of Kildare

The winter it is past and the summers come at last And the small birds they sing on every tree Their little hearts are glad but mine is very sad Since my true love is far away from me. The rose upon the brier, by the water running clear Gives joy to the linnet and the bee Their little hearts are blessed but mine is not at rest While my true love is absent from me. A livery Ill wear and Ill comb back my hair And in velvet so green I will appear, And straight I will repair to the Curragh of Kildare For its there Ill find tidings of my dear. Ill wear a cap of black, with a frill around my neck Gold rings on my fingers I wear Its this I undertake, for my true lovers sake He resides at the Curragh of Kildare. I would not think it strange, thus the world for me to range If I got tidings of my dear, But here in Cupids chain, if Im bound to remain I would spend my whole life in despair. My love is like the sun, that in the firmament does run And always proves constant and true, But he is like the moon, that wanders up and down And every month is new. All you that are in love and cannot it remove I pity the pains you endure, For experience let me know, that your hearts are full of woe And a woe that no mortal can cure.