Down Yonder Green Valley Where Streamlets Meander,
When Twilight Is Fading, I Pensively Rove,
Or At The Bright Noontide In Solitude Wander
Amid The Dark Shades Of The Lonely Ash Grove.

'Twas There While The Blackbird Was Joyfully Singing,
I First Met My Dear One, The Joy Of My Heart;
Around Us For Gladness The Bluebells Were Ringing,
Ah! Then Little Thought I How Soon We Should Part.


Still Grows The Bright Sunshine O'er Valley And Mountain,
Still Warbles The Blackbird His Note From The Tree;
Still Trembles The Moonbeam On Streamlet And Fountain,
But What Are The Beauties Of Nature To Me.


With Sorrow, Deep Sorrow, My Bosom Is Laden,
All Day I Go Mourning In Search Of My Love.
Ye Echoes, O Tell Me, Where Is The Sweet Maiden?
She Sleeps 'neath The Green Turf Down By The Ash Grove