The Mad Fiddler
 
I sleep beneath a bracken sheet
   In sunlight or in rain,
The road dust burns my naked feet,
   The sunrays sear my brain;
But children love my fiddle’s sound
   And if a lad be straying,
His mother knows he may be found
   Where old Mad Larry’s playing.
 
O fiddle, let us follow, follow,
   Till we see my Eileen’s face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
   Off she flew to some far place.
 
O, did you ever love a lass?
   I loved a lass one day,
And she would lie upon the grass
   And sing while I would play.
She was a cruel, lovely thing,
   Nor heart nor soul have I,
For Eileen took them that soft spring
   When she flew to the sky.
 
So fiddle, let us follow, follow,
   Till we see my Eileen’s face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
   Off she flew to some far place.


Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
http://poetry.elcore.net/CatholicPoets/KilmerJ/KilmerJ77.html
Created April 5, 2001; not revised.