Your hills and dales and flowery vales That lie near the Moorlough Shore Your winds that blow by borden's grove Will I ever see you more Where the primrose blows And the violet grows Where the trout and salmon play With my line and hook delight I took To spend my youthful days Last night I went to see my love To hear what she might say To see if she'd take pity on me Lest I might go away She said, "I love that Irish lad And he was my only joy And ever since I saw his face I have loved that soldier boy" Perhaps your soldier lad is lost Sailing over sea of Maine Or perhaps he is gone with some other one You may never see him again Well if my Irish lad is lost He's the one I do adore And seven years I'll wait for him By the banks of the Moorlough Shore