| I sat within the valley green
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| I sat me with my true love.
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| My sad heart strove the two between
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| The old love and the new love.
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| The old for her the new
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| That made me think on Ireland dearly.
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| While soft the wind blew down the glade
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| and shook the golden barley.
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| T’was hard the woeful words to frame
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| To break the ties that bound us.
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| But harder still to bear the shame
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| of foreign chains around us.
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| And so I said the mountain glen
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| I’ll meet at morning early.
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| And I’ll join the bold united men
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| While soft winds shook the barley.
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| T’was sad I kissed away her tears
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| My fond arm round her flinging.
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| When a foe, man’s shot burst on our ears
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| >From out the wild woods ringing.
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| A bullet pierced my true love’s side
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| In live’s young spring so early.
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| And on my breast in blood she died
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| While soft winds shook the barley.
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| But blood for blood without remorse
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| I’ve ta’en at oulart hollow.
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| I’ve lain my true love’s clay like corpse
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| Where I full soon must follow.
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| Around her grave I’ve wandered drear
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| Noon, night, and morning early.
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| With breaking heart when e’er I hear
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| The wind that shakes the barley. |