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Old Virginny

de Jean Ritchie

With Kitty I'll go for a ramble
Over the mountains wild
Where the blackbirds nest in the brambles
In a home where the eagle chides
Or in some lonely valley
Where the birds in the evening nest
And my with their prayers would mingle
For the Sun to hurry west

Oh, my darling wee lark of the heather
Your voice is so sweet to me
As the stars all singing together
Where the mountains sweep down to the sea
And all of Erin's bright treasures
All her beautiful locks and rills
Cannot equal one smile from my Caitlin
My queen of the heathery hills

I'll buy the roughest of raiment
To last out the life of man
With my whiskers unkempt and unshaven
Till the reach is a mile in span
Like the fleece on a grey mountain weather
They'll tumble and dangle around
If I don't get a wife in the heather
I'll try in the low mown ground

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