I sat within a valley green
I sat me with my [bad word] love
My said heart strove the two between
The old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made
Me think on Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glade
And shook the golden barley

Twas hard the woeful words to frame
T'was worse the ties that bound us
But harder still to bear the shame
Of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen
I'll seek at morning early
And join the bold united men"
While soft wind shook the barley

Twas sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arms around her flinging
The foeman shot burst on our ears
From out the wildwood ringing
The bullet pierced my [bad word] love's side
In young life's spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft wind shook the barley

Then blood for blood without remorse
I've taking to Oulart Hollow
I placed my [bad word] love's clay-cold corpse
Where I will soon may follow
And round her grave I wondered here
Now night and morning early
With a breaking heart when e'er I hear
The wind that shakes the barley