| There’s a home by the wide Avonmore
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| That will sweep o’er the broad open sea
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| And wide rivers their waves wash ashore
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| Whilst bulrushes wave to the breeze
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| Where the green ivy clings 'round the door
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| And the birds sweetly sing on each tree
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| Oh me darling, they’re tuning their notes
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| It’s ar Éirinn ní neosfainn cé hí
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| Like the sick man that longs for the dawn
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| I do long for the light of her smile
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| And I pray for my own cailín bán
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| Whilst I’m waiting for her by the stile
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| Oh I’d climb all the hills of the land
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| And I’d swim all the depths of the sea
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| To get one kiss from her lily-white hand
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| It’s ar Éirinn ní neosfainn cé hí
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| I have toiled sore those years of me life
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| Through storm, through sunshine and rain
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| And I surely would venture my life
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| For to shield her one moment from pain
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| For she being my comfort in life
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| Oh my comfort and joy she may be
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| She’s my own, she’s my promised wife
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| It’s ar Éirinn ní neosfainn cé hí
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| Oh but when I will call her my own
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| And 'tis married we both then will be
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| Like the king and the queen on the throne
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| We’d be living in sweet purity
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| Oh 'tis then I’ll have a home of my own
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| And I’ll rear up a nice family
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| Oh 'tis then that her name will be known
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| But for Ireland I won’t tell her name |