Curragh Of Kildare

Winter is past
And summer is come at last
And the small birds are singing in the trees
Their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
For my true love’s far away from me

All you that are in love
And cannot it remove
I pity all the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know
That your hearts are full of woe
It’s a woe that no mortal can endure

Ribbons I’ll wear
And I’ll comb back my hair
And in velvet so green I will appear
And it’s straight I will go there
To the Curragh of Kildare
For it’s there I’ll find tidings of my dear

Oh, the winter is past
And the summer’s come at last
And the small birds are singing in the trees
Oh their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
For my true love’s far away from me