Irish Meadows

Doth hath seen my fair beauty,
Walk upon the fellow trees.
Now with love has gone
Into my fairest of dreams.
Hath come upon my brow,
To day as beauty, nor a flower.
Will show the spirit in fair face,
As a fairies prance.
In time of need,
Cometh to my place of deed
With gentle hands that trace—
To a night among my tragic space,
Hath not lost much as me today.
Dear sweet babe,
She hath not passed beyond our gaze,
Into the meadow
Now find her presence
For which to come to my frail,
Irish Meadow.