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izquierdaThe Mountains of Pomeroyderecha

George Sigerson

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The morn was breaking bright and fair,
the lark sang in the sky
When the maid, she combed her golden hair
with a blythe glance in her eye
For who beyond the gay, green wood
was awaiting her with joy
Oh who but the gallant Renardine
on the mountains of Pomeroy

Full often in the dawning hour,
full oft in twilight brown
He met the maid in the woodland bower
where the stream comes foaming down
For they were faithful in a love
no wars could e'er destroy
No tyrant's law touched Renardine
on the mountains of Pomeroy

An outlawed man in a land forlorn
He scorned to turn and fly
But kept the cause of freedom safe
On the mountains of Pomeroy.

"Dear love," she said, "I'm so afraid
for the foeman's force and you
For they've tracked you in the lowland plain
and all the valley through
My kinsmen frown when you are named,
your life they would destroy
'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine
on the mountains of Pomeroy'"


"Fear not, fear not, my love," he cried,
"Fear not the foe for me
No chains shall fall whate'er betide
on the arm that will be free
Oh leave your cruel kin and come
when the lark is in the sky
And it's with my gun I'll guard you
on the mountains of Pomeroy"


The morn has come, she rose and fled
from her cruel kin and home
And bright the woods, and rosy-red
was the tumbling torrent's foam
But the mist came down, and the tempest roared
and did all around destroy
And the pale drowned bride met Renardine
on the mountains of Pomeroy