The Lambs On The Green Hills (Traditional Songs from Connemara, 2014)
The lambs on the green hills, they sport and they play And many strawberries grow round the salt sea How sad is my heart when my own love’s away How many’s the ship sails the ocean
The bride and the bride’s party, to church they did go The bride she rode foremost, she bears the best show And I followed after with my heart filled with woe For to see my love wed to another
The next time I saw her, was in the church stand Gold ring on her finger, her love by hand Says I my wee lassie, I will be your man Although you are wed to another
The last time I saw her, was on the way home I rode on before her not knowing where to roam Says I my wee lassie, I will be the one Although you are wed to another
Stop, stop says the groomsman, til I speak a word Would you chance your life on the point of my sword For courting so slowly, you have lost this fair maid So be gone for you ne’er will enjoy her
So dig now my grave, both long wide and deep And sprinkle it over with flowers so sweet And lay me down in it for to take my last sleep For that’s the sure way to forget her.