Cailin Rua As I roved out on a summer's morning, speculating most curiously, To my surprise I there espied a charming fair maid approaching me, I stood awhile in deep meditation, contemplating what I should do, 'Till at length recruiting all my sensations I thus accosted the Cailin Rua: "O are you Aurora or the Goddess Flora, Artemidora or Venus bright, Or Helen fair beyond compare that Paris stole from the Grecian sight? O fairest maiden you have undone me, I'm captivated in Cupid's clew, Your golden saying are infatuations that have enslaved me, Cailin Rua." "Kind sir be easy and do not tease me with your false praises so jestingly. Your dissimulations and invocations are vaunting praises alluring me. I am not Aurora or the Goddess Flora, but a rural maiden to all men's view, Who's here condoling my situation, my appellation the Cailin Rua." "Oh were I Hector, that noble victor who died a victim of Grecian skill, Or were I Paris whose deeds are various, an arbitrator on Ida's hill, I'd rage through Asia like Abyssinia, Pennsylvania seeking you The burning raygions like sage Orpheus to see your face my sweet Cailin Rua."

© 2005 Jonathan Ramsey Irish Music Productions