Her brow is like the lily,
Her cheek is like the rose,
And fair as daffodilly
Her yellow coolun flows.
Ne’er blue so tender
Flowed in a glance,
And ne’er shape as slender
Went gliding in the dance.

‘Twas up among the mountains,
She lived all alone,
Where Connemara’s fountains
Fall chiming on the stone.
Singing I found her
Down in a dell,
With all the birds round her
Entranced before her spell.

I asked why she was leading
So lonesome a life,
And long my passion pleading,
Besought her for my wife.
“Ah! Hasty lover,
You woo in vain,
But when a year’s over
Come seek me here again.”

Oh! Early up the mountain
When that year was o’er,
The creeping minutes counting,
I climbed and climbed once more,
Till at last I found you,
Dear Valentine,
And stole my arms around you,
And knew your heart was mine.