Gracie Og Machree

I placed the silver in her palm,
By Inny's smiling tide,
And vowed, ere summer time came on,
To claim her as a bride.
But when the summer time came on,
I dwelt beyond the sea ;
Yet still my heart is ever true
To Grade Og Machree.

O bonnie are the woods of Targ,
And green thy hills, Rathmore,
And soft the sunlight ever falls
On Darre's sloping shore ;
And there the eyes I love — in tears
Shine ever mournfully,
"hile I am far, and far away
From Grade Og Machree.

When battle-steeds were neighing loud,
With bright blades in the air,
Next to my inmost heart I wore
A bright tress of her hair.
When stirrup-cups were lifted up
To lips, with soldier glee,
One toast I always fondly pledged,
'Twas Gracie Og Machree.

O I may never, never clasp
Again, her lily hand,
And I may find a soldier's grave
Upon a foreign strand ;
But when the heart pulse beats the last,
And death takes hold of me,
One word shall part my dying lips,
Thy name, Astor Machree