Mhuire a's truagh! Mhuire a's truagh!
A foot went by in the night,
A swift foot that I knew,
And I saw in the chill moonlight
A golden ghostly head–
O my Love long dead!

Mhuire a's truagh! Mhuire a's truagh!
Is it colder yet in the clay,
Since the wandering's come on you
'Twixt the dark and the day;
Now the frost's on the window-pane
And you come to my door again?

Mhuire a's truagh! Mhuire a's truagh!
Do you bring me the word at last
That the waiting hours are through
And my loneliness is past?
That after the joy denied
I may rest satisfied.

Mhuire a's truagh! Mhuire a's truagh!
'Twill be sweet to sleep in the sod,
With the singing lark in the blue,
Under the smile of God;
So that a grave we share
Together, Heart's Dearest, there.