The candle's at the window and the sun is in the West And the baby's in the cradle and the bird is on the nest The young man's gone a-courting but the old man's home to stay And in the fire's failing light we heard the old man say Bless ye the setting of the sun, the candle set at foot and head And bless ye fair maids, every one, that never came to warm my bed Farewell whatever salty seas I never sailed upon Farewell whatever roads that go where I have never gone Farewell a hundred fallow fields that never did I plow Farewell a hundred distant hills that I shall not climb now Farewell to every tree whose fruit I never gathered up Farewell to every jug in town that never filled my cup Farewell the rivers fair and far that never I have crossed And farewell the gold I never found and the silver I have lost