I.

(Is truagh gan mise i Sasana)
'Tis a pity I'm not in England,
Or with one from Erin thither bound,
Out in the midst of the ocean,
Where the thousands of ships are drowned.

From wave to wave of the ocean
To be guided on with the wind and the rain--
And O King! that Thou might'st guide me
Back to my love again!

II.
(Táid na réalta 'na seasamh ar an aer)
The stars stand up in the air,
The sun and the moon are gone,
The strand of its waters is bare,
And her sway is swept from the swan.

The cuckoo was calling all day,
Hid in the branches above,
How my stóirín is fled far away--
'Tis my grief that I give her my love!

Three things through love I see,
Sorrow and sin and death--
And my mind reminding me
That this doom I breathe with my breath.

But sweeter than violin or lute
Is my love, and she left me behind--
I wish that all music were mute,
And I to my beauty were blind.

She's more shapely than swan by the strand,
She's more radiant than grass after dew,
She's more fair than the stars where they stand--
'Tis my grief that her ever I knew!