The Wind That Shakes The Barley
I sat within a valley green, Sat there with my true loveMy heart strove to choose between, Me old love and the new loveThe old for her, the new that made, Me think on Ireland dearlyWhile soft the wind blew down the glade, And shook the golden barley
Twas hard the mournful words to frame, To break the ties that bound usBut harder still to bear the shame, Of foreign chains around usAnd so I said, "The mountain glen, I'll seek at morning earlyAnd join the brave united men", While soft wind shook the barley
Twas sad I kissed away her tears, Her arms around me clingingWhen to my ears that fateful shot, Came out the wildwood ringingThe bullet pierced my true love's breast, In life's young spring so earlyAnd there upon my breast she died, While soft wind shook the barley
I bore her to some mountain stream, And many's the summer blossomI placed with branches soft and green, About her gore-stained bosomI wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse, Then rushed o'er vale and valleyMy vengeance on the foe to wreak, While soft wind shook the barley
Twas blood for blood without remorse, I took at Oulart HollowI placed my true love's clay-cold corpse, Where mine full soon may followAround her grave I wondered drear, Noon, night and morning earlyWith aching heart when e'er I hear, The wind that shakes the barley.