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Little Lord of Death

Little Lord of death
    Take a mighty step
Dance, Dance,
    To the High Hop tune;
Dance, Dance,
    With the lady fair
Who plays her flute
    To the jealous moon.

Little Lord of death
    Your feet come soon
They know each step
    In the jig and rune
They know each step
    As the lady fair
Shows a clean heel
    In the grass in June.

As the young girls played
    On a summer's day,
As the young girls tinkled
    A piano tune;
And sang sentimental
    And played violins
Never knowing you were bowing
    Your Nick Nock tune.

In a house by the sea
    That they took for the summer
If help came late,
     If help came soon;
Little Lord of death
    Had ticked off a number
A tired little number,
    In a rented room.

    Dance, Dance,
Mighty Lord of  Death
    Dance High
To your hip hop tune,
    The rose that was red
Is the rose that is white
     And she fell down dead
In a rented room.

     
     The roses white
And the roses red
     They burst with joy
When they're in bloom,
     They sink and sigh
And sodden lie.
      When they open their ears
To your Nick Nock tune.
© Anne Le Marquand Hartigan

From
Now is a Moveable Feast


by
Anne Le Marquand Hartigan
Salmon Irish poetry publishers
ISBN: 1 0 948339 55 1 Softcover

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