The heath was green on Carrigdhoun
Bright shone the sun o’er Ard-na-Lee
The dark green trees bent trembling down
To kiss the slumbering Own na Buidhe
That happy day – ’twas but last May
Now it’s like a dream to me
When Donal swore, aye o’er and o’er
We’d part no more, a stór mo chroí
On Carrigdhoun the heath is brown
The clouds are dark o’er Ard-na-Lee
And many a stream comes rushing down
To swell the angry Owen na Buidhe
The moaning blast is sweeping past
Through many a leafless tree
And I’m alone, for he is gone
My hawk has flown, ochone 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 Donal then?
There’s but a chance. he’s gone to France
To wear the Fleur-de-Lis
But I’ll follow you, my Donal Dhu
For still I’m true to you mo chroí