I try to knead and spin, but my life is low the while. 
Oh, I long to be alone, and walk abroad a mile; 
Yet if I walk alone, and think of naught at all, 
Why from me that's young should the wild tears fall? 

The shower-sodden earth, the earth-colored streams, 
They breathe on me awake, and moan to me in dreams, 
And yonder ivy fondling the broke castle-wall, 
It pulls upon my heart till the wild tears fall. 

The cabin-door looks down a furze-lighted hill, 
And far as Leighlin Cross the fields are green and still; 
But once I hear the blackbird in Leighlin hedges call, 
The foolishness is on me, and the wild tears fall!