Below the Rocks where the Samphire Blows

BELOW the rocks where the samphire blows,
The pebbled beach in an inlet shows
A quiet cave, where a green fern grows
By the summer sea.
'Twould cheer and brighten my home alway,
But fades if far from the fresh sea spray,
It could not live for a single day
In the town with me.
Below the hill where the heather lies,
A maiden sings, and her smiling eyes
Say love's a blossom that never dies
By the town or sea.