I heard the Poor Old Woman say: "At break of day the fowler came, And took my blackbirds from their songs Who loved me well thro' shame and blame No more from lovely distances Their songs shall bless me mile by mile, Nor to white Ashbourne call me down To wear my crown another while. With bended flowers the angels mark For the skylark the place they lie, From there its little family Shall dip their wings first in the sky. And when the first suprise of flight Sweet songs excite, from the far dawn Shall there come blackbirds loud with love, Sweet echoesmof the singers gone. But in the lovely hush of eve Weeping I grieve the silent bills" I heard the Poor Old Woman say In Derry of the little hills.