The Coolun

Ah, had you seen the Coolun,

Walking down by the cuckoo’s street,

With the dew of the meadow shining

On her milk-white twinkling feet.

My love she is, and my colleen óg

And she dwells in Bal’nagar;

And she bears the palm of beauty bright

From the fairest that in Erin are.

In Bal’nagar is the Coolun:

Like the berry on the bough her cheek;

Bright beauty dwells forever

On her fair neck and ringlets sleek;

Oh, sweeter is her mouth’s soft music

Than the lark or thrush at dawn,

Or the blackbird in the greenwood singing

Farewell to the setting sun.