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Last[D] eve as I[G] wandered quiet[D] near,
To the border's of[G] my little[A] farm,
A[G] beautifull maiden ap[D]peared,
Whoes lovelyness[G] caused my heart's[D] harm,
By her daring and[G] love smitten sour,
And the[D] words from her[A] sweet lips that came,
ToD] meet her I[G] raced the field[D] o're,
But for Ireland i'd[G] not tell her[D] name.
[2]
If this[D] beauty but my[G] words would[D] heed
The words that I[G] speak would be[A] true,
I'd[G] help her in every[D] need,
And indeed all her[G] work I would[D] do,
To[D] win one fond[G] kiss from my love,
I'd[D] read her ro[A]mances of fame,
Her[D] champion I[G] daily would[D] prove,
But for Ireland I'd[G] not tell her[D] name.
[3]
There's a beautiful stately young maid,
At the nearing of my little farm,
She's welcoming kind unafraid,
Her smile is both childlike and warm,
Her gold hair in masses that grows
Like amber and sheen is that same,
And the bloom in her cheeks like the rose,
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.
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Ar éirinn Ní n-Eósainn
Cé h-í Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin
Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím,
Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair
D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn.
Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló,
Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn,
Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair,
Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.
Dá ngéilleadh an spéir-bhean dom' ghlór,
Siad ráidhte mo bheól a bheadh fíor;
Go deimhin duit go ndéanfainn a gnó
Do léirchur i gcóir is i gcrich.
Dó léighfinn go léir stair dom' stór,
'S ba mhéinn liom í thógaint dom chroí,
'S do bhearfainn an chraobh dhi ina dóid,
Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.
Tá spéir-bhruinneal mhaordha dheas óg
Ar an taobh thall de'n teóra 'na mbím.
Tá féile 'gus daonnacht is meóin
Is deise ro-mhór ins an mhnaoi,
Tá folt lei a' tuitim go feóir,
Go cocánach ómarach buí.
Tá lasadh 'na leacain mar rós,
Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.
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For Ireland I'd Not Tell Her Name Lyrics
Last eve as I wandered quiet near,
To the border's of my little farm,
A beautifull maiden appeared,
Whoes lovelyness caused my heart's harm,
By her daring and love smitten sour,
And the words from her sweet lips that came,
To meet her I raced the field o're,
But for Ireland i'd not tell her name.
[2]
If this beauty but my words would heed
The words that I speak would be true,
I'd[G] help her in every need,
And indeed all her work I would do,
To win one fond kiss from my love,
I'd read her romances of fame,
Her champion I daily would prove,
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.
[3]
There's a beautiful stately young maid,
At the nearing of my little farm,
She's welcoming kind unafraid,
Her smile is both childlike and warm,
Her gold hair in masses that grows
Like amber and sheen is that same,
And the bloom in her cheeks like the rose,
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.
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