Bridget O'Malley

Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shaken
 With a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to know
 It's the wonders of adoration your quiet face has taken
 And your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.
 The white moon above the pale sands, the pale stars above the thorn tree
 Are cold beside my darling, but no purer than she
 I gaze upon the cold moon til the stars drown in the warm sea
 And the bright eyes of my darling are never on me.
 My Sunday it is weary, my Sunday it is grey now
 My heart is a cold thing, my heart is a stone
 All joy is dead within me, my life has gone away now
 Another has taken my love for his own.
 The day it is approaching when we were to be married
 But it's rather I would die than live only to grieve
 Oh, meet me my darling ere the sun sets o'er the barley
 And I'll meet you there, on the road to Drumslieve.
 Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shaken
 With a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to know
 It's the wonders of adoration you're quiet face has taken
 And your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.