(Trad. Arr. Karan Casey/Donald Shaw)
One evening of late as I carelessly strayed
I espied a fair maid in deep mourn
asked her the matter, she quickly made answer
I am weary from lying alone, alone
I am weary from lying alone
My comely young damsel come down here alongside me
And tell me of the years that have a flown
For seven long gone and eleven years around
I am weary from lying alone, alone
I am weary from lying alone
If I got a comely young man who would take me without fortune
And make me a wife of his very own
For the truth is I’ll say is, I’ll die in despair
If I lie any longer alone, alone
If I lie any longer alone
There’s a neat sweet li’l flower in this garden alongside
me
Take it away sure it is all but your own
For the flower it will fade and so also will the maid
For she’s weary from lying alone, alone
For she’s weary from lying alone.
