Bright her locks of beauty grow

BRIGHT HER LOCKS OF BEAUTY GREWFrom Miss Brookes’s Reliques of IRISH Poetry. Composed by Mr W.H. BIRD.

Bright her locks of Beauty grew,curling fair and sweetly flowing,And her Eyes of Heav’nly Blue,Oh! how soft how Heav’nly glowing,Oh! how soft, Oh! how soft how Heav’nly glowing.

Ah poor plunderd heart, of painwhen wilt thou have an end to mourningThis long Year I look in vainTo see my only hope returningThis long Year I look in vain, To see my only hope returning:

Oh would thy promise faithful prove,And to my fond fond Bosom give thee,To my fond Bosom Bosom give thee,Lightly then my steps wou’d move,Joyful shou’d, Joyful shou’d my Arms receive thee.