when i was a maiden fair and young on the pleasant banks of the lee no bird that in the green wood sung was half so blithe and free my heart near beat with flying feet no love sang me her queen till down the glen rode sarsfield s men and they wore the jackets green no hoarded wealth did my love own save the gold sword that he bore but i loved him for his self alone and the colours bright he wore for had he come in england s red to make me england s queen i d rove the high green hills instead for the sake of irish green when sarsfield sailed away i wept i heard the wild ochone i felt then dead like the men who slept neath the fields of garryowen while ireland held my donal blessed no wild sea rolled between till i would fold him to my breast all robed in irish green i saw the shannon s purple tide roll by the irish town as i stood in the breach by donal s side when england s flag went down and now it glows as it seeks the skies like a blood red curse between i weep but tis not the women s sighs will raise the irish green oh ireland sad thy lonely soul and loud beats the winter seas but sad and high the wild waves roll from hearts that break for thee yet grief shall come to our heartless foes their thrones in the dust be seen but irish maids love none but those who wear the jackets green
['celtic', 'irish folk']