Classic Poem

Before I stumbled o'er a song
In Waterford or Kerry,
The Winters were as long as long
But all the Springs were merry;
For though I could not sing myself,
The sally-thrush was near me,
But now my rhymes might fill a shelf
And not a bird to cheer me.

Before I learned these music-words
In Ballyshunock's meadow,
The days were happy for the birds
Oft sang within my shadow;
But now that I can sing a song,
My shadow wants the thrushes,
And the Winters are as long as long
With neither birds nor bushes.

How long ago since I was young
In Munster of the Music,
Is more than I could tell by tongue;
But charming Moira Cusack,
Perchance recalls when first my words
Made songs on her so sweetly
That all the jealous little birds
Went off from me completely.