Chorus:
Oh Erin, grá mo chroí, you’re the dear old land to me
You’re the fairest that my eyes have ever seen
You’re the land St. Patrick blessed, you’re the bright star of the west
You’re my own native land so far away.

At the setting of the sun when my long day’s work was done
I rambled down the seashore for a walk
And I being all alone I sat down upon a stone
For to gaze upon the scenes of New York.

With the turf fire burning bright on a cold dark winter’s night
And the snowflakes falling gently to the ground
When St. Patrick’s Day has come, my thoughts will carry me home
To that dear little isle so far away.

Chorus

On the day that I did part, well it broke my mother’s heart
Will I ever see my dear ones anymore?
Not until my bones are laid in that cold and silent grave
In my own native land so far away.

Oh Erin grá mo chroí, you’re the dear old land to me
You’re the fairest that my eyes have ever seen
And if ever I go home, it’s from you I never will roam
You’re my own dear native land so far away.