There's a colleen fair as May,
For a year and for a day,
I have sought by every way her heart to gain,
There's no art of tongue or eye,
Fond youths with maidens try,
Yet I've tried with ceaseless sigh yet tried in vain,

If to France or far off Spain,
She crossed the watery main,
To see her face again the seas I'd brave,
For if this is heaven's decree,
That mine she may not be,
May the son of Mary, me in mercy save/

Oh, thou blooming milk white dove,
To whom I'm given true love,
Do not ever thus reprove my constancy,
There are maidens would be mine,
With wealth and land on high,
If my heart would but incline to turn from thee.

But a kiss with welcome bland,
And touch of thy fair hand,
Are all that I demand wouldst thou not spurn,
But if not mine, dear girl,
Oh, snowy breasted pearl,
May I never from the fair with life return again.

Oh, oh, oh, oh...,
Oh, oh, oh, oh...,
Oh, oh, oh, oh...,
Ah, ah, ah, ah...,
Ah, ah, ah, ah...,
Ah, ah, ah, ah....

If to France or far off Spain,
She crossed the watery main,
To see her face again the seas I'd brave,
But if not mine, dear girl,
Oh, snowy breasted pearl,
May I never from the fair with life return.