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