TESTO DEL LIED

"Let brain-spinning swains"
di Sir Alexander Boswell (1775-1822)

Let brain-spinning swains, in effusions fantastic,
Sing meetings by moonlight in arbour or grove;
But Patrick ODonnellys taste is more plastic,
All times and all seasons are fitted for love:
At Cork or Killarny, Killala or Blarney,
At fair, wake, or wedding, my passion must glow:
Fair maid, will you but trust to me,
Fondly Ill love you wherever I go.

When driving the cows of old father OLeary,
An angel, yourself, I had still in my eye;
When digging potatoes, mud-spatterd and weary.
O what did I think on, but you, with a sigh!
At plough, or haymaking, Im in an odd tucking,
My bosom heaves high, though my spirits be low:
Fair maid, will you but trust to me,
Fondly Ill love you wherever I go.

When first I spied your sweet face, I remember,
That hot summer day, how I shiverd for shame!
You smild when I met you again in December,
And then, by the Powrs, I was all in a flame!
Come summer, come winter, in you my thoughts center,
I doat on you, Judy, from top to he toe:
Fair maid, will you but trust to me
Fondly Ill love you wherever I go.