[From Manx Melodies, 1922]
I HEARD the lark at break of day,
I heard the echoes ring;
A lonely maid, and blithe as they-
What could I do but sing?
But neither lark nor echoes stopped
To listen to my song,
And sometimes into silence dropped-
What could I do but long?
And then one stepping lightly past
Called me his singing dove;
With him to please, the days sped fast-
What could I do but love?
And then'! He wearied of my song
And lightly passed me by.
So, left alone to love and long-
What could I do but die?