Your hills and dales and flowery vales that lie near the Moorlough Shore
Your vines that blow by Borden's grove, may I never see you more
Where the primrose blows and the violet grows
Where the trout and salmon play
With my line and hook, delight I took to spend my youthful days
Last night I went to see my love, to hear what she might say
To see if she'd take pity on me, lest I might go away
She said, I loved an Irish lad, and he was my only joy
And ever since I saw his face, I have loved that soldier boy
Well perhaps your soldier lad is lost sailing over sea of Maine
Or perhaps he is gone with some other one, may I never see him again
Well, if my Irish lad is lost, he's the one I do adore
And seven years I will wait for him by the banks of the Moorlough shore
And seven long years I'll wait for him by the banks of the Moorlough shore