A stór mo chroí, when you’re far away, from the home you’ll soon be leaving
And it’s many a time by night and day, that your heart will be sorely grieving.
Though the stranger’s land might be rich and fair, with riches and treasure golden
You’ll pine, I know, for the long long ago, and the love that’s never olden.

A stór mo chroí, in the stranger’s land, there is plenty of wealth and wearing
Whilst gems adorn the rich and the grand, there are faces with hunger tearing.
Though the road is dreary and hard to tread, and the lights of their cities may blind you
You'll turn, a stór, to Erin’s shore, and the ones you left behind you.

A stór mo chroí, when the evening sun, over mountain and meadow is falling
Won’t you turn away from the throng and listen, and maybe you’ll hear me calling.
The voice that you’ll hear will be surely mine, for somebody’s speedy returning
A rúin, a rúin, will you come back soon, to the one who will always love