The Invitation
Will you come to the bower through the bog and the heather,
To the fires where the boys and girls are met together,
Where the dancing board's laid down, where accordion and fiddle
Are gayer than the poteen with their merry tarra-diddle,
Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower?
You can drink tea or porter and eat scallions while your able,
Your seat is the bogland and the heather is your table,
The moon for a lamp and the little stars above you
And a young man at your elbow to encourage, kiss and love you
Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower?
You can dance jigs or reels or the half set or the lancers
And you'll shine in the midst of the fairest of the dancers;
Will you sing like the blackbird on the highest branch of morning
Or whisper words of love when the holy day is dawning?
Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower?
Will you come to the bower since the sun that old reprover
Has gone to his bed, left the world to lass and lover,
Since the stars wait to deck you and the moon comes out to greet you,
Will you come from your room, life and love are here to meet you?
Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower?
This song was written by my Dad for his ballad opera, God's Gentry.
Maybe it is only filial piety, but I prefer this song to the traditional one
on which it is based. You can find a link to the whle play here:
Plays, poetry and songs by Donagh MacDonagh