Brighidin Ban Mo Store

I am a wand'ring minstrel man,

And Love my only theme,

I've stray'd beside the pleasant Bann,

And eke the Shannon's stream;

I've pip'd and play'd to wife and maid

By Barrow, Suir, and Nore,

But never met a maiden yet

Like Brighidin Ban Mo Store.

My girl hath ringlets rich and rare,

By Nature's fingers wove -

Loch-Carra's swan is not so fair

As her breast of love;

And when she moves, in Sunday sheen,

Beyond our cottage door,

I'd scorn the high-born Saxon queen

For Brighidin Ban Mo Store.

It is not that thy smile is sweet,

And soft thy voice of song -

It is not that thou fleest to meet

My comings lone and long;

But that doth rest beneath thy breast,

A heart of purest core,

Whose pulse is known to me alone,

My Brighidin Ban Mo Store!