THE FOGGY DEW

(E H Milligan, 1910)

A-down the hill I went one morn,
A lovely maid I spied,
Her hair was bright as the dew that wets
Sweet Anner's verdant side.
"And where go ye, sweet maid?" said I,
She raised her eyes of blue,
And smiled and said, "The boy I wed
I'm to meet in the foggy dew."

Go hide your blooms, ye roses red,
And droop, ye lilies rare,
Or you must pale for very shame,
Before a maid so fair.
Said I, "Dear maid, will you be my bride?"
Beneath her eyes of blue,
She smiled and said, "The boy I wed
I'm to meet in the foggy dew."

A-down the hill I went at morn,
A-singing I did go,
A-down the hill I went at morn,
She answered soft and low,
"Yes! I will be your own dear bride
And I know that you'll be true,"
Then sighed in my arms, and all her charms
Were hid in the foggy dew.


Written by E H Milligan for the book Songs of the Irish Harpers, 1910; here quoted from Kenneth Peacock, Songs of the Newfoundland Outports (Ottawa: National Museum of Canada, 1965, II, 521). The tune is the well-known Irish one.