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http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/18d01f2672f3cc8ba16fa0aa0de23dee.mp3
点击复制Oh woeful was the day when I was pressed to sail afar
And leave behind the girl I loved in the town of Ballinagard
The shady groves were my delight till I was forced to sail
You all may guess at my distress lying in the Nightingale
Grief and woe that I must go and fight for England’s King
I do not know his friends or foe and war’s a cruel thing
The Nightingale lies near at hand, my time alas is brief
From pearling streams and mountain rills I part with bitter grief
No more I’ll walk the golden hills with Nancy by my side
Or stroll along the sun-bright rills or view my land with pride
We sail away at dawn of day. Our sails are ready set.
When Old Ireland’s shore I see no more, I will sigh with deep regret
Now all is changed and I must range across the ocean wide
Our ship she may in Biscay Bay be sunk beneath the tide
If I should fall by a cannonball or sink beneath the sea
Good people all, a tear let fall and mourn for mine and me
But if God should spare my graying hair and bring me back again
I will love far more my Antrim shore, it’s dark blue hills and glens
Around my fire but one desire God grant till life shall fail
To keep me far from cruel war and from the Nightingale
To keep me far from cruel war and from the Nightingale