Last eve as I wandered quite near
To the borders of my little farm
A beautiful maiden appeared
Whose loveliness caused my heart's harm
By her bearing and look smitten sore
And the words from her sweet lips that came
To meet her I raced the field o'er
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name

If this beauty but my words would heed
The words that I'd speak would be true
I'd help her in every need
And indeed all her work I would do
To win one fond kiss from my love
I'd read her romances of fame
Her champion I daily would prove
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name

There's a beautiful stately young maid
At the nearing of my little farm
She's welcoming, kind, unafraid
Her smile is both child-like and warm
Her gold hair in masses that grows
Like amber in sheen is that same
And the bloom in her cheeks like the rose
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name