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Mullaghdoo Hugh Fulton, once my comrade dear, Pursuing fortune, left his home, And through the lone sequestered plains Of Nova Scotia now does roam. He left his houses and fair lands That lovely dwelling for to view; The place that gave our hero birth Was the wholesome braes of Mullaghdoo. It grieves my heart, since we did part To view those planted groves and shades, The covert of the feathered tribe Where oft he courted blooming maids, The goldspring, nightingale and thrush Thnt oftimes charmed our noble Hugh Have dropped their wings with silent tongues And say, "We'll go frae Mullaghdoo." The generous lily, pink and rose There oft with beauty smiled arrayed, But now we see they are declined Since away from them our hero strayed. Their naked stem and leafless bower No more require the morning dew, Their summer robes they'll ne'er put on Since Hugh's away from Mullaghdoo. Thou silent moon and glittering orbs That oftimes drew his image tall, How can you light those immortal hills Or cast a shadow on the wall? How can ye peep out of the deep, O'er lofty hills and mountains blue, And o'er this place eclipse your face, The midnight mourner, Mullaghdoo? The night he took his last farewell Of Chatham boys, his favoured few - - Our master's name was Dan McKay - - He says, "A charge I leave wi'you: Now, brave McKay, as you pass by Wi' fifes and drums and colours blue, The more my face you ne'er shall see; Play 'Auld Lang Syne' for Mullaghdoo." from Songs of the People, Henry RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!