| At Oranmore in the county Galway
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| One pleasant evening in the months of May
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| I spied a damsel; |
| she was young and handsome
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| Her beauty fairly took my breath away
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| She worn no jewels, nor costly diamonds
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| No paint nor powder, no none at all
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| But she worn a bonnet with ribbons on it
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| And 'round her shoulders was the Galway shawl
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| We kept on walking, she kept on talking
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| 'Til her father’s cottage came in to view
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| Said she, «Come in sir, and meet my father
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| And play, to please him, 'The Foggy Dew'»
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| She sat me down beside the hearthstone
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| I could see her father, he was six feet tall
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| And soon her mother had the kettle singing
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| All I could think of, was the Galway shawl
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| She worn no jewels, nor costly diamonds
|
| No paint nor powder, no none at all
|
| But she worn a bonnet with ribbons on it
|
| And 'round her shoulders was the Galway shawl
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| I played, 'The Black Bird', 'The Stack of Barley'
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| 'Rodney's Glory' and 'The Foggy Dew'
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| She sang each note like an Irish linnet
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| And tears weld in her eyes of blue
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| 'Twas early, early, all in the morning
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| I hit the road for old Donegal
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| Said she, «Goodbye sir», she cried and kissed me
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| But my heart remain with the Galway shawl
|
| She worn no jewels, nor costly diamonds
|
| No paint nor powder, no none at all
|
| But she worn a bonnet with ribbons on it
|
| And 'round her shoulders was the Galway shawl |