Текст песни Primrose

Good morning, Brigid, I can hear the bell Is it even real? Who knows? Is there a sheep gone down in the well? Now the bleating grows Feel the fire thrown from her hand Better burnt than froze If there a darkness over the land Winter wind follows Up to the stream, asleep on the moss My finger in the flows If I dream, then what is the loss Here in sweet repose? If I fell in the water, I'd see where it goes If you should see me pass Give love to my lass and my good fellows Leave next to the spring a primrose