If you ever go
across the sea to Ireland
Then maybe at the closing
of your day
You will sit
and watch the moonrise
over Claddagh
And see the sun go down
on Galway Bay
Just to hear again
the ripple of the trout stream
The women in the meadows
making hay
And to sit beside a turf fire
in the cabin
And watch the barefoot
gossoons at their play
For the breezes blowing
o'er the seas from Ireland
Are perfum'd
by the heather as they blow
And the women
in the uplands diggin' praties
Speak a language
that the strangers do not know
For the strangers came
and tried to teach their way
They scorn'd us
just for being what we are
But they might as well go
chasing after moonbeams
Or light a penny candle
from a star
And if there is going
to be a life hereafter
And somehow I am sure
there's going to be
I will ask my God
to let me make my heaven
In that dear land
across the Irish sea