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The Bonny Irish Maid
As I roved out one morning fair, so early as I strayed,
It being all in the month of May, the birds sang in the shade,
The sun shone down right merrily and billowing with pride,
Where primroses and daisies grow down by Blackwater side.
I had not gone but half a mile when there by chance I spied,
Two lovers talking as they walked down by Blackwater side.
And as he embraced her in his arms, these words to her did say,
When I am in America, I'll be true to my Irish maid.
Oh when you are in America, those Yankee girls you'll find,
And you'll have sweethearts of your own more pleasing to your mind,
Do not forget the promises and vows to me you made,
Oh stay at home love and do not roam from your bonny Irish maid.
Oh when I am in America, those Yankee girls I'll see,
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And they must be very handsome to remind me love of thee,
For there's not a flower in yonder grove or a bloom in yonder glade,
That can remind me love of you, my bonny Irish maid.
Oh many's the foolish youth she said, has gone to some foreign shore,
Leaving behind his own true love perhaps to see no more.
It's in crossing of the Atlantic foam sometimes their graves are made,
Oh stay at home love and do not roam, from your bonny Irish maid.
These two young hearts together so fondly did embrace,
Like honey drops upon the dew the tears rolled down her face,
Saying there's not a day while you're away I'll visit still these glades,
Until you do return again, to your bonny Irish maid.
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