Going to Mass by the will of God, the day came wet and the wind rose;
I met Mary Hynes at the cross of Kiltartan, and I fell in love with
her there and then.

I spoke to her kind and mannerly, as by report was her own way; and
she said "Raftery my mind is easy; you may come to-day to Ballylee."

When I heard her offer I did not linger; when her talk went to my heart
my heart rose. We had only to go across the three fields; we had
daylight with us to Ballylee.

The table was laid with glasses and a quart measure; she had fair hair
and she sitting beside me; and she said, "Drink, Raftery, and a hundred
welcomes; there is a strong cellar in Ballylee."

O star of light and O sun in harvest; O amber hair, O my share of the
world! Will you come with me on the Sunday, till we agree together
before all the people?

I would not begrudge you a song every Sunday evening; punch on the
table or wine if you would drink it. But O King of Glory, dry the roads
before me till I find the way to Ballylee.

There is sweet air on the side of the hill, when you are looking down
upon Ballylee; when you are walking in the valley picking nuts and
blackberries, there is music of the birds in it and music of the Sidhe.

What is the worth of greatness till you have the light of the flower