|
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling |
|
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside |
|
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling |
|
Its you, its you must go, and I must bide |
|
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow |
|
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow |
|
Its I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow |
|
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so |
|
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me |
|
And all my grave will warm and sweeter be |
|
If you will bend and tell me that you love me |
|
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me |
