A ROVER

Oh, I am just a rover

Among the roving men

Who loves to watch the sunlight

Upon the flowering fen;

Who fain would feel the heather

Dew-soft beneath his tread

When morning parts the cloud-wrack

Above Benbulbin's head;

Who likes to lie and linger

Until the rising moon

Shows all her midnight glories

High o'er the Lough of Cloon;

Whose feet were shaped to follow

The road's eternal lure

From stormy Stockarudden

To sunny Knockanure!

But since there‘ s Sheilah calling,

(‘ T is love that‘ s in her call! )

Faith, I am just a rover

Who‘ ll rove no more at all!