"'The Little Bench of Rushes' - and not a bunch"

An Beinnsin Luachra - The Little Bunch of Rushes

As I roved out one morning
Down by a clear river side,
With dogs and gun commanding
In decent and becoming pride,
I spied a lovely creature
Whose fair locks I chanced to view,
With a bunch of rushes making,
As pleasing as ever grew.

I looked about most careful,
The place being free and clear,
I used some kind endeavours
With this fair maid I loved so dear.
She said, " Kind sir, be easy,
I am a maid, you needs must know,
These rushes cost some labour,
So spare them and let me go."

I said, " My charming creature,
Be pleasing to me and kind,
This moment is the season
That engages my tender mind.
These rushes cost some labour,
'Tis plain that the like do grow;
Then grant me your kind favour,
Embrace me and ease my woe."

I gently did embrace her,
In my arms I did her entwine:
" If your parents they are pleased now,
In wedlock's bands we will join.
My heart you've captivated
On this place where the rushes grow,
And for ever I'll embrace you,
And your bonny bincheen luachara O!"
TRADITIONAL

On a delightful gay morning By the fringe of the wood of greenest blossom, My little dog was walking with me Proudly, and my gun was in my hand, When I met a graceful girl, Red-haired, radiant, most beautiful and fair, Clasping a bundle Of rushes of finest blossom.

I gazed on the landscape, And we were in solitude at noon, I approached the maid And stole from her a couple of kisses. She said to me haughtily, " Leave me alone and do not dally with me, And do not scatter my bundle of rushes That I gathered with such trouble."

" O little girl of the rushes, Will you leave your bundle down ? And will you come with me in solitude To the fringe of the wood of greenest blossom? The priests will not hear of it, Nor anyone at all, Till talk comes to the song-thrush And speech to the handsome blackbird."

" O little girl of the rushes, Be tranquil and stay quiet; There is no need for you to be haughty In solitude, all alone. If I have scattered your rushes, It is natural that there are more of them; I shall gather a great bundle for you, And a load of them for good measure(?)."

This is one of the best-known of Irish Gaelic songs, and numerous versions exist of both words and air. The beautiful tune here given may well be thought to be worthy of a better theme; at the same time, the excellent assonance of the original makes the poem a melodious one.
The girl was presumably gathering rushes for thatch or for carpet-making, but her bundle has the same symbolical meaning as thyme in English folk song, such as the familiar verse in "The Seeds of Love":

I once had a sprig of thyme,
It prospered night and day,
By chance there came a false young man
And he stole my thyme away.

A popular Irish song was sometimes given an English dress and issued as a broadsheet; and in this case I give the broadsheet version in place of a strict metrical translation of the original. The humble and unknown translators of such pieces knew Irish well, but their knowledge of English prosody was far to seek; and so, probably quite unconsciously, they imitated the assonance of their originals. To realise this to the full, one must bear in mind that the pronunciation is that of the Irish countryside—"daycent" for "decent", "crayture" for "creature", "plaising" for "pleasing", "aisy" for "easy", and so on. The internal assonance then becomes obvious. To take the third verse as an example:

I said, 'My charming crayture,
Be plaz'sing to me and kind,
This moment is the sayson
That engages my tender mind.
These rushes cost some labour,
'Tis plarn that the like do grow ;
Then grant me your kind favour,
Embrace me and ayse my woe'.