Wearin' Of The Green"
Taylor's Traditional Tunebook
Sequenced By: Barry Taylor
Used With Permission
Once upon a
dream-in a grove of trees-
Napping in a warm, consoling breeze.
I spied a small creature, with a sack on his back,
He set down a pot - then opened his sack
Took out of the sack a little toy spade
And dug a hole in the tree shade.
What do you there, I query?
"Tis me gold -oi' come to bury,
With you, oi' will not parry
For oi've not time to tarry
Oi'm off to Londonderry
To eat, drink and be merry
For th' wearin' o' th' Green"
Well, answer me this, I pray
And then you can go on your way
To eat, drink and play,
Of this pot of gold you bray
I see it not this "Gold" you say,
You say it is - I say nay!
You do naught but preen!
"Why do ye' not let me go?
Oi've several long rows to hoe,
Oi' cannot get there bein' slow
Ye' got me head hangin' low,
Oi' pledge ye' some golden glow
May me eyes be plucked by a crow
If oi' don't honor me draft."
Thinking on that slender thread,
I felt I had little dread,
I closed my eyes and shook my head,
Opened them---and he had fled.
And I heard a high cackling laugh-
And he screamed at me -- "Are ye' daft?"
Never trust a leprechaun
They always practice their craft.
I suppose he's pacifying the queen
And celebrating the wearing of the green---
Betty C. Danielsİ