As I roved out one evening fair, By the verdant braes of Skreen, I set my back to a hawthorn tree, To view the sun in the west country, The dew on the forest green.
A lad I spied by our burn-side, And a maiden by his knee, And he was dark as the berry brown red, And she all wae and worn to see, All wae and worn was she.
"O! sit ye down on the grass," he said, "On the dewy grass so green, For the wee birds all have come and gone Since I my true love have seen," he said, "Since I've my true love seen."
"O! then, I'll not sit on the grass," she said, "Nor be a love of thine, For I hear you love a Connacht maid, And your heart is no longer mine," she said, "And your heart is no longer mine."
"O! I'll not heed what an old man says, For his days are well-nigh done, And I'll not heed what a young man says, For he's fair for many a one," she says, "For he's fair for many a one."
"But I will climb a high, high tree, And rob a wild bird's nest, And back I'll bring whatever I do find To the arms that I love best," she said, "To the arms that I love best."
[End note:] More than fifty years ago I learnt this from Dr. Séamus Ó Ceallaigh who lived at 53 Rathgar Road. He was a native of Ballinascreen and numbered among his ancestors Cormac Ó Ceallaigh, a famous harper and harp-maker. See Ceól No. 3 ** Dr. Ó Ceallaigh. Herbert Hughes has printed the tune and the three final verses Irish Country Songs, vol. i (Boosey, 1909). In Dr. Ó Ceallaigh's house was held one of the last meetings of the leaders before the Rising of 1916.