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Londonderry Air

 
 
            G G7 C  
Would God I were the tender apple blossom
                G
 
That floats and falls
     Em7 A7 Am7
 
from off the twisted bough
D7 G G7 C
 
To lie and faint with-in your silken bosom
            G C D7 G   
 
Within your silken bosom as that does now.
           Em C G 
 
Or would I were a little burnish'd apple
           Em C G D7
 
For you to pluck me, gliding by so cold
              G7
 
While sun and shade
    C G
 
you robe of lawn will dapple
             Em
 
Your robe of lawn,
Hm C D7 G          
 
and your hair's spun gold.
  
Yea, would to God I were among the roses
That lean to kiss you as you float between
While on the lowest branch a bud uncloses
A bud uncloses, to touch you, queen.
Nay, since you will not love,
would I were growing
A happy daisy, in the garden path
That so your silver foot
might press me going
Might press me going even unto death.
 

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