The Toss Of Golden Hair by Pentangle
As I was going to Dublin on the very first day of the
year,
A young and pretty maiden on the road before me did
appear.
"Where d'you hail from, my pretty maiden?" I did ask
her so softly.
"It's at Tuaifeen that I dwell, Sir, and a fairer place
you'll never see.
"Now it's my turn for a question," this pretty maiden
did decide.
Are you free to make so bold now, when at home your
poor wife does reside?"
"'Tis true, my wife is ever ailing, these past three
months and longer,
And my spirit it is breaking, for I know that she ne'er
be wed."
"What would you give", she continued, "If a different
fortune could be thine?
What would you give", she did press me, "for a maiden
young and in her prime?
Who could give you money in your pocket, and gold for
you to squander,
And each night just to enchant you, golden tresses
strewn across your bed?"
"Oh, fair maiden, do not tempt me, though there's
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