Moorlough Shore - The Corrs

Your hills and dales and flowery vales

That lie near the Moorlough Shore

Your winds that blow by borden’s grove

Will I ever see you more

Where the primrose blows

And the violet grows

Where the trout and salmon play

With my line and hook delight I took

To spend my youthful days

Last night I went to see my love

To hear what she might say

To see if she’d take pity on me

Lest I might go away

She said, «I love that Irish lad

And he was my only joy

And ever since I saw his face

I have loved that soldier boy»

Perhaps your soldier lad is lost

Sailing over sea of Maine

Or perhaps he is gone with some other one

You may never see him again

Well if my Irish lad is lost

He’s the one I do adore

And seven years I’ll wait for him

By the banks of the Moorlough Shore