by the clear and the winding stream in the valley of strathmore where my love and i have been where we ll wander never more but if time was a thing man could buy all the money that i have in store i would give for one day by her side in the valley of strathmore from the glen of the golden and the green i left for a land far away where sadness has never been seen aye and joy only costs a day s pay in strathmore there s a long working day for a man with his hands on the plow but it s work i d be happy to do if at night i were lying with you as i take a long draft from my glass oh i m drinking alone here again and i try not to think of my lass for the old days will ne er come again