Poem by Robert Dwyer Joyce

Sweet Imokilly

I MET, within the greenwood wild,
  My own true knight, that loved me dearly,
When summer airs blew soft and mild,
  And linnets sang, and waves rolled clearly;
And, O, we pledged such loving vows
  In moss-grown glade, all green and rilly,
Where lightly waved the rustling boughs
  Of thy green woods, sweet Imokilly!

I met my love in festive hall,
  Mid lords, and knights, and warriors fearless,
And there my love among them all
  To my fond heart was ever peerless:
And he was fond, and time could ne’er
  His love for me make cold and chilly;
Ah! then I knew nor grief nor care
  Mid thy green woods, sweet Imokilly!

From Rincrew’s turrets, high and hoar,
  When autumn floods were wildly sweeping,
I saw my love ride to the shore,
  I saw him in the torrent leaping,
To meet me ’neath the twilight dim,
  In bowery nook, secure and stilly;
But the ruthless waters swallowed him,
  By thy green woods, sweet Imokilly!

1. Sweet Glengariff’s Water
2. The Siege of Limerick
3. The Blacksmith of Limerick
4. The Oaks of Gleneigh
5. The Hills of Sweet Tipperary

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