Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling.
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
It's you, it's 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.
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And should ye come, and all the flowers are dying.
And I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me.
And all my grave shall warmer sweeter be.
For you will bend and tell me that you love me.
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

But should I live, and you should die for Ireland,
Let not your dying thoughts be all of me.
But say a prayer to God for our dearest Ireland.
That he may hear, and help set her free.
And I shall take your pike and sword my dearest.
And strike a blow, though weak that blow may be.
To help the cause to which your heart was nearest
And you shall sleep in peace, until I come to thee.
Oh Danny Boy, Oh, Danny boy
I love you so.