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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 t'was not her beauty alone that won me. |
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Oh no, t'was 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, was listening to me, |
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The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding, |
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When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee. |
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Though lovely and fair, as the rose of the summer, |
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Yet t'was not her beauty alone that won me. |
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Oh no, t'was the truth in her eyes ever dawning, |
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That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee! |
