Oh, where is the lad that's far away? . . .
And what of the one who sails the sea? . . .
Oh, how will they keep Saint Patrick's Day,
Saint Patrick's Day in the morning?

There's some will hear the great guns' din
At the break o' day their tune begin.
And the snipers welcome the daylight in
On Patrick's Day in the morning.

And be they far or be they near,
Upon that day they'll keep good cheer,
And make the foe that meets them fear
On Patrick's Day in the morning.

There's some will watch the fleet that lurks
By harbour, mine and fortress works,
And some will hammer the heathen Turks
On Patrick's Day in the morning.

Oh, far and near their watch is set,
But be they cold, or be they wet,
Will there a man of them all forget
Saint Patrick's Day in the morning?

Ay, some they'll be so sound who sleep
In the fields o' France or the waters deep,
They will not know that their kinsmen keep
Saint Patrick's Day in the morning.

Sweet is the sleep of them, far away;
And how should they heed if a man should say:
'Oh, don't you remember Saint Patrick's Day,
Saint Patrick's Day in the morning?'