Danny Boy |
| 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 roses falling. |
| It's you, it's you must go and I must bide. |
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| But come ye back when summer's in the meadow |
| Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow. |
| It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow. |
| Oh, Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so! |
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| But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying, |
| If 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. |
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| And I shall hear, though soft you tread above 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. |
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| - Frederick Edward Weatherly |