34. My Love Is Like the Sun

THE winter is past,

And the summer’s come at last

And the blackbirds sing in every tree;

The hearts of these are glad

But my poor heart is sad,

Since my true love is absent from me.

The rose upon the briar

By the water running clear

Gives joy to the linnet and the bee;

Their little hearts are blest

But mine is not at rest,

While my true love is absent from me.

A livery I’ll wear

And I’ll comb out my hair,

And in velvet so green I’ll appear,

And straight I will repair

To the Curragh of Kildare

For it’s there I’ll find tidings of my dear.

I’ll wear a cap of black

With a frill around my neck,

Gold rings on my fingers I’ll wear:

All this I’ll undertake

For my true lover’s sake,

He resides at the Curragh of Kildare.

I would not think it strange

Thus the world for to range,

If I only get tidings of my dear;

But here in Cupid’s chain

If I’m 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 ye that are in love

And cannot it remove,

I pity the pains you endure;

For experience lets me know

That your hearts are full of woe,

And a woe that no mortal can cure.