Grá geal mo Chroí |
At the foot of Newry mountain Clear water does flow. There lives a wee lassie Far whiter than snow. She's slender in the waist For all young men to see And her name in plain Irish Is Grá geal mo Chroí.
2. 'Twas on a summer's morning,
3. I then drew a near to | 4. That the moon it may darken And show us no light, And the bright stars of heaven Fall down from their height; That the rocks may all melt, And the mountains remove The hour I prove false To the fair one I love.
5. If I were an empress
6. Like a sheet of white paper |
7. O, the ships on the ocean May go without sails, And the smallest of fishes Turn into great whales, In the middle of the oceans There will grow an apple tree, If e'er I prove false To my Grá geal mo Chroí. |