The Lass of Rabbit Hill
On The Land of Rabbit Hill there lives a lass
More bright than a May-day morn
Whose charms, surpass all other maids'
A rose without a thorn.
This girls so neat, with smiles so sweet
Has come to me of her own freewill
I'm proud to call her mine
The balmy lass of Rabbit Hill.
There's breezes blowing that fan the air
Wild and wanton through the trees
A whisper to my charming fair
'I die for the one I love.'
This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet
Has won all of my good will
I had no riches til I called her mine
Sweet lass of The Lass of Rabbit Hill Hill.
James Csey 2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem