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O Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling |
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From glen to glen and down the mountainside |
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The summer's gone and all the flowers are dying |
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'it's you, it's you must go and I must bide. |
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But come ye back when summer's in the meadow |
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Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow |
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'It's I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow |
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O Danny boy, O Danny boy, I love you so. |
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And if you come and all the flowers are dying |
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And I am dead, as dead I may be, |
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You'll come and find the place where I am lying |
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And kneel and say an Ave there for me. |
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And I shall hear, though soft, your tread above me |
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And on my grave will warm and sweeter be |
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Then you shall kneel and whisper that you love me |
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And I will sleep in peace until you come to me |
