Christmas Day

[play_it_pretty]

The young gentleman came riding past
on a snow-blue winter's day
He asked to drink by our fire and
I was pleased to let him stay
He drank there quietly for a while
and then he turned and said to me

Your eyes are green
Like summer grass
Your lips are red
like a fresh-cut rose
Your hair is soft
like an Irish stream
And your voice is filled with sweet beauty

And the last words I heard him say were
I shall return for you, my love, on Christmas Day