Beyond the four seas of Eire, beyond the sunset's rim,
It lies half-forgot, in a valley deep and dim;
Like a star of fire from the skies' gold tire,
And whoso drinks the nine drops shall win his heart's desire–
At the Well o' the World's End.
What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O girl white-bosomed, O girl fair and young?
'I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That my love may have love for me ever on his tongue.'

What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O lad of the dreaming eyes, slender lad and tall?
'I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That the cailín I love best may love me best of all.'

What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O mother, with your little babe folded on your arm?
'I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That nine drops upon his lips may shield my child from harm.'

What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O gray head, long weary of the vigil that ye keep?
'I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water
That nigh it I may rest awhile, and after fall asleep.'