She Moved Through The Fair

Traditional Celtic

My young love said to me,

my mother won’t mind.

And my father won’t slight you for your lack of kind.

Then she lay her hand on me

and this she did say,

“ Oh it will not be long now till our weeding day.”

Then she turned away from me,

and she moved through the fair.

As fondly I watched her move here and move there.

Then she turned homeward with one star awake.

Like a swan in the evening

moves over a lake.

Last night she came to me.

My dead love came in.

So softly she moved that her feet made no din.

And she lay down beside me, and this she did say,

“ Oh it will not be long love, til our wedding day.”

Kim - vocal/guitar/bass

Michael - violin

Jubal - percussion

A 2911 Productions, Not Your Mama's Folk Records