A Stór Mo Chroí

A Stor Mo Chroi, when you're far away
 From the house that you'll soon be leaving
 Sure it's many a time by night and by day
 That your heart will be sorely grieving
 For the stranger's land may be bright and fair
 And rich in all treasures golden
 You'll pine, I know, for the long, long ago
 And the heart that is never olden
 A Stor Mo Chroi, in the stranger's land
 There's plenty of wealth and wailing
 Though gems adorn the rich and grand
 There are faces with hunger pailing
 The road may be weary, and hard to tread
 And the lights of the city blind you
 Oh turn, A Stor, to old Erin's shore
 And the ones you have left behind you
 A Stor Mo Chroi, when the evening's mist
 In the mountain and meadow is falling
 Oh turn, A Stor, from the throng and list
 And maybe you'll hear me calling
 For the sound of a voice that you seldom hear
 For somebody's speedy returning
 A rún, a rún, Oh, won't you come back soon
 To the one who really loves you