Dancing at Whitesun Songtext
von The Dubliners

It′s fifty long springtimes since she was a bride
And still you may see her at each Whitsuntide
In a dress of white linen and ribbons of green
As green as her memories of loving

The feet that were nimble tread carefully now
As gentle a measure as age will allow
Through groves of white blossoms and fields of young corn
Where once she was pledged to her true love


The fields, they stand empty, the hedges grow free
No young men to tend them, no pastures to see
They're gone where the forests of oak trees before
They′re gone to be wasted in battle

Down from the green farmlands and from their loved ones
Marched husbands and brothers, fathers and sons
There's a fine roll of honour where the maypole once stood
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun

There's a straight row of houses in these latter days
All covering the downs where the sheep used to graze
There′s a field of red poppies, a gift to be seen
And the ladies remember at Whitsun

And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun