AN OLD TUNE Mongst the green Irish hills I love dearly, At the close of the bright summer day, I heard an old tune lilted clearly, That soothed half my sorrows away. And far o'er the wide-rolling ocean Methinks I am hearing it now, As a farewell of tender emotion -- 'The Pretty Girl Milking her Cow.' Next day was the last look of Erin; 'Twas almost like death to depart; And since, in my foreign wayfaring, That tune's like a thread round my heart. Still back to the dear old Green Island It draws me, I cannot tell how -- The whisper in music of my land -- 'The Pretty Girl Milking her Cow.' -- William Allingham (1824-1899)