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The Presence

  • (Archie Fisher / Stuart MacGregor)

    It was out in the long spring grass, she said
    And the night was soft on the hill
    He touched my ear with his voice, she said
    And my blood ran sweet and chill
    I laugh in my sleep at their gibes, she said
    Though they call me old maid still

    I have seen them sprinkled, weaned and loved
    The young girls fondled and wed
    I've watched their dreams go as grey as the hair
    That the limpin' sheepdogs shed
    But mine are as green as the tall pines
    That lean by Loch Erne head

    And he never came back to my father's byre
    Yet on an April night
    When the moon sits pat on a scudding cloud
    And the stars are quick and white
    I have known his clutch like a cloak of pyre
    And his limbs like swords of light

    And my eyes wet by the fire, she said
    But not with lust or shame
    I mourn no shepherd laid low on the hill
    I weep in the starry flame
    With the joy of what I can never lose
    But what I dare not name

    It was out in the long spring grass, she said

    (as sung by Archie Fisher)

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