Eamonn of the Hill

Who's that out there
Rending the air
And battering my poor door asunder?
It is Eamonn from the hill,
Please, please let me in,
To ease my thirst and my hunger.

O Eamonn, go away.

You know you can't stay:

You are hunted and hounded for treason.

I’m sick, tired and wet,

Since our forces were bet;

Over mountains my flight never ceases.

 

So, please let me in;

Let me warm my poor skin

And eat a bite from your table.

That I can’t do,

Though I’ve pity for you,

Since death we both, then, would be facing.


My fields are unploughed;
My corn is unsewed;
My plough-horses fret in the stable.
My land-rights are gone,
And, God grant I be wrong,
A strange man now sits at my table.

You made your choice

When you left with the boys

To fight in defence of your country.

That battle is lost:

You must carry your cross:

So, leave here, I beg, and keep running.

 
Go, while you can,

Before my new man

Comes home and sees that you linger.

He will let out the hounds

To make sure that you’re found:

Each minute increases the danger. 

What's it matter to me

Who our masters may be?

I look out for me and the baby.
If you linger here,

I’ll be called insincere

And treated, like you, as a traitor,

For I have sworn love,

As it me now behove,

To a captain of the conquering army

To make sure that our babe

Will be kept safe

And raised to grow old and contented.