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Danny boy
Londonderry air
anon.
words: Fred E. Weatherly
words: Fred E. Weatherly
Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, From glen to glen and down the mountain side. The summer's gone and all the leaves are falling, 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide. But come ye back, when summer's in the meadow, and all the valley's hushed and white with snow. And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow, Oh, Danny Boy, oh, Danny Boy, I love you so! But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying and I am dead, as dead I well may be, Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying, and kneel and say an Ave there for me; And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread a bove me, and all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, for you will bend, and tell me that you love me, and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me! Oh, Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so! |
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