Glad Eye
for Steve Doolan...
A man saw a maid, dancing high on a hill
She was wild as the waves of the sea
I’m thinking, he thought, that she’s looking my way
And she sure has a glad eye for me
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
No, sir, she said, ‘tis a trick of the light
You’re deceived, for I’m looking elsewhere
And ‘tis only by chance that my mischievous glance
Has been caught by your curious stare
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
How she danced, how she danced, on the top of the hill
How she swirled like a cloud in the blue
Appearing to flirt with a flick of her skirt
And the bat of an eyelash or two
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
She was here, she was gone, she was there, she was gone
As the moon on the wings of the fay
For a moment, the light, then the fall of the night
Then the smile, then the looking away
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
Now your man was a no nonsense sensible cove
And time waits for no man, nor he
It was tea-time, and late, so he asked the girl straight
What’s with the glad eye for me?
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
She stopped for a moment, up high on the hill
And she blushed to the prettiest pink
Why, no sir, she lied, there’s just stuff in my eye
And your man is mistaken in drink
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
He thought for a minute, there wasn’t much in it
And tea had a finer appeal
So he bid her good day, in a chivalrous way
Doffed his hat, and then turned on his heel
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
Come back! she said, ‘Twas all nonsense! she said
Though my fancy is fickle, ‘tis true
You may take me, or leave me, but better believe me
I so have a glad eye for you
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no?
He thought to himself, she’s a right silly lass
But she sure has a glad eye for me
So he beckoned her down from the top of the hill
And took her back home for some tea
I may do, I might do, but how would ye know
Whether my glad eye’s for you, boy, or no
For truly it’s really quite tricky to tell
Whether your man has a glad eye as well
© Gail Foster 5th October 2016
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