The Web Poetry Corner - M A Heathcote - Beneath the cloy mountain grass
Beneath the cloy mountain grass
M A Heathcote
Oh come hither my lass to the hills
Where the valleys gorge calls out
And sing, dance and shout my love
For what this life is all about?
And if it isnít to be merry my love
And if it isnít to be glad;
Then bury me my bonny lass
Beneath the cloy mountain grass.
Oh come gather me in your arms my lass
Take me back to the sea and the stars
And if thereís nothing shinning my love
Tarry with my heart in your lonesome arms
For the waters all around me love
Are deep and dark, and black
So if isnít to be glad my lass
Bury me beneath the cloy mountain grass.