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[G]On Carrigdhoun the[D] heath is[G] brown,
The[D] sky is dark over Ardna[G]lee
And[G] many’s the stream[Am]
comes rushing[C] down
To[D7] swell the angry Owena[G]bwee.
The[C] moaning blast goes sweeping[G] fast
Thru’
many’s the[A7] leafless[D7] tree
And[G] I’m alone, for[G7] he is[C] gone,
My[D] hawk is flown, oc[C]hón,
mo[G] chroí!
The heath is green on Carrigdhoun,
Bright shines the sun over Ardnalee.
The light green trees bent trembling
down
To kiss the slumbering Owenabwee.
That happy day ‘twas but last May,
It’s like a dream to me.
When Domhnall swore, aye o’er and o’er,
We’d part no more, a stór mo chroí.
Soft April showers and bright May flowers
Will bring the summer back again.
But will they bring me back the hours
I spent with my brave Domhnall then
‘Tis but a chance, he’s gone to France,
To wear the Fleur-de-Lis.
I’d follow you, my Domhnall dhú,
For still I’m true to you, a chroí.
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