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The pale moon was rising above the green mountain, |
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The sun was declining beneath the blue sea; |
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When i strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain, |
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That stands in the beautiful vale of tralee. |
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She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, |
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Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; |
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Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, |
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That made me love mary, the rose of tralee. |
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The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading |
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And mary all smiling sat listening to me; |
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The moon through the valley her pale rays were shining |
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When i won the heart of the rose of tralee. |
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She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, |
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Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; |
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Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, |
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That made me love mary, the rose of tralee. |
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On the far fields of india, mid war's bloody thunder, |
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Her voice was a solace and comfort to me, |
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But the cold hand of death has now torn us asunder |
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I'm lonely tonight for my rose of tralee. |
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She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, |
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Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; |
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Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, |
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That made me love mary, the rose of tralee. |
