O Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.

The summer's gone and all the roses falling;

It's you, it's 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.

And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;

Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so!

But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying,

If I am dead, as dead I well may be.

Ye'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 you tread above me;

And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,

For you will bend and tell me that you love me;

And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!