The winter it has passed

And the summer's come at last

The small birds are singing in the trees

And their little hearts are glad

Ah, but mine is very sad

Since my true love is far away from me



Chorus:

And straight I will repair

To the Curragh of Kildare

For it's there I'll finds tidings of my dear



The rose upon the briar

And the clouds that float so high

Bring joy to the linnet and the bee

And their little hearts are blessed

But mine can know no rest

Since my true love is far away from me



All you who are in love

Aye and cannot it remove

I pity the pain that you endure

For experience lets me know

That your hearts are filled with woe

It's a woe that no mortal can cure