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 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