winter is past
and summer is come at last
and the small birds are singing in the trees
their little hearts are glad
ah, but mine is very sad
for my true loves far away from me
all you that are in love
and cannot it remove
I pity all the pain that you endure
for experience lets me know
that your hearts are full of woe
its a woe that no mortal can endure
ribbons Ill wear
and Ill comb back my hair
and in velvet so green I will appear
and its straight I will go there
to the Curragh of Kildare
for its there Ill find tidings of my dear
oh, the winter is past
and the summers come at last
and the small birds are singing in the trees
oh their little hearts are glad
ah, but mine is very sad
for my true loves far away from me