Eamonn of the Hill

Who's that out there
Rending the air
And battering my poor door asunder?
It is Eamonn from the hill,
Please, please let me in,
To ease my thirst and my hunger.

O Eamonn, go away.
You know you can't stay:
You are hunted and hounded for treason.
I’m sick, tired and wet,
Since our forces were bet;
Over mountains my flight never ceases.
So, please let me in;
Let me warm my poor skin
And eat a bite from your table.
That I can’t do,
Though I’ve pity for you,
Since death we both, then, would be facing.

My fields are unploughed;
My corn is unsewed;
My plough-horses fret in the stable.
My land-rights are gone,
And, God grant I be wrong,
A strange man now sits at my table.

You made your choice
When you left with the boys
To fight in defence of your country.
That battle is lost:
You must carry your cross:
So, leave here, I beg, and keep running.
Go, while you can,
Before my new man
Comes home and sees that you linger.
He will let out the hounds
To make sure that you’re found:
Each minute increases the danger. 

What's it matter to me
Who our masters may be?
I look out for me and the baby.
If you linger here,
I’ll be called insincere
And treated, like you, as a traitor,

For I have sworn love,
As it me now behove,
To a captain of the conquering army
To make sure that our babe
Will be kept safe
And raised to grow old and contented.


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