There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
Do you remember yet, a gradh , the sunshine of that day,
How the river ran before us, and the fleckless blue hung o'er us,
And against the purple heather gleamed the yellow of the hay?

There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn,
Where on a dew-wet swinging spray brown throstles trilled above,
And the blackbird carolled after in a silver rain of laughter,
And the little linnet piped its song that has no theme but Love.

There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
'Twas sweet with you beside me in a world of harvest gold:
The sallaghs made a shadow in a corner of the meadow,
And your eyes were wells of kindness, and my hand lay in your hold.

There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
The voice of Spring comes on the winds like cuckoo calling clear,
She bids us fare together, nor heed the fitful weather —
And seek in yon green glen the joy that waits our hearts, my Dear.