Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling.
From glen to glen and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go, and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
But when ye come and all the flowers are dying.
If I am dead, and dead I well may be,
You'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an“Ave”there for me.
And I shall hear tho' soft your tread above me,
And all my grave will warmer sweeter be.
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
From glen to glen and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go, and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
But when ye come and all the flowers are dying.
If I am dead, and dead I well may be,
You'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an“Ave”there for me.
And I shall hear tho' soft your tread above me,
And all my grave will warmer sweeter be.
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
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