O Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling 
From glen to glen and down the mountainside 
The summer's gone and all the roses falling 
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide. 

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow 
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow 

But if ye come and all the flowers are dying 
If I am dead, as dead I well may be, 
You'll come and find the place where I am lying 
And kneel and say an Ave there for me. 

And I shall hear, though soft, your tread above me 
And all my grave shall warmer, sweeter be 
For you will bend and tell me that you love me