The wild mountain thyme that grows around my door
Has grown there for two score years or more
And I've grown weary waiting for love to say
"Come my way, come my way."
The brook that sings and twinkles in the sun
Has danced this mercy dance since time begun
But o how weary and how long the day will he say
"Come my way."
Lovers all around, I wish you joy
Happiness to every girl and boy.
But sometimes spare a thought of me and say
WorldNews.com | 05 Jun 2020
Belfast Telegraph | 05 Jun 2020
The Irish Times | 05 Jun 2020
Manchester Evening News | 05 Jun 2020
The Wrap | 04 Jun 2020
RTE | 05 Jun 2020