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The winter has passed and the summer's come at last
And small birds are singing in the trees
Their little hearts are glad, but mine is very sad
For my true love is far away from me

Her ribbons I'll wear and I'll comb back my hair
In garlands of green I will appearances
And it's straight I will go there to the curragh of Kildare
For it's there that I'll find tidings of my dear

The rose on the briar and the waters running free
Bring joy to the linnet and the bee
Their little hearts are glad, but mine is very sad
For my true love is far away from me

Oh you who are in love and cannot it remove
I pity the pain you do endure
For experience lets me know that you're hearts are filled with woe
It's a woe that no mortal man can cure