| On Shannon bank I wandered on May
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| Where the violet waters run
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| There the yellow petal of primrose did lay
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| 'Neath the warmth of the morning sun.
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| Golden light, gentle rain falling from above
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| with a beauty beyond compare
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| Sweeter than the violin the language of love
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| in the heart of my true love fair.
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| There I saw a fair young maid
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| like a rose in its richest bloom,
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| And her raven hair with blossom arrayed
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| Filled the air with a sweet perfume.
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| Silver stream, summer song calling from above
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| with a beauty beyond compare
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| Sweeter than the violin the language of love
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| in the heart of my true love fair.
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| This jewel bright, this flower fair
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| She consented to be my bride.
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| Ten years have past, still none compare,
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| To her loveliness, by my side.
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| Golden light, gentle rain falling from above
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| with a beauty beyond compare
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| Sweeter than the violin the language of love
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| in the heart of my true love fair |