Hugh of the Hill

He comes from the mountains green 
To the yellow shore: 
A thousand years he's seen 
And a thousand more. 
His hair is dark as the night. 
And gray as the sea 
Are the wonderful eyes whose light 
Grows soft for me. 

Hugh of the Hill has seen 
Colleens galore, 
Barefooted on the green 
Edge of the shore. 
Now they are laid away 
Under the earth, 
Grow neither sad nor gay 
For a fairy's mirth. 
 
Hugh of the Hill has made 
Some sore hearts glad; 
He has bidden the strong be afraid 
And the merry sad. 
He has given fairy gold, 
To the miser's store: 
He has kissed the warm mouth cold. 
And the light heart sore. 

Hugh of the Hill, I know. 
Loves me to-day. 
It is not he will go. 
Grown tired, away. 
But I shall go from the hearth 
That's mine no more 
To the quiet bosom of Earth 
That is cradle and door. 

Hugh of the Hill, to-night 
Is mine alone. 
Kiss me, and hold me tight 
Lest I be gone 
Into a chamber dark 
Where you cannot come: 
Where you shall call and hark 
And I lie dumb. 

Now I can hold you close 
And answer and hear, 
And kiss as a woman knows 
When her heart holds fear. 
So short is my time to flower. 
So long you will 
Seek love, and be glad but an hour, 
Hugh of the Hill!