빙 크로스비
If you ever go across
the sea to Ireland
Then maybe at the
closing of your day
You will sit and watch
the moonrise
over Claddagh
And watch the
barefoot gossoons
at their play
just to hear again
the ripple of the
trout stream
The women in the
meadows making hay
And to sit beside
a turf fire
in the cabin
And see the sun go
down on Galway Bay
For the breezes
blowing o'er the
seas from Ireland
Are perfumed by the
heather as they blow
And the women
in the uplands
digging praties
Speak a language
that the strangers
do not know
For the strangers
came and tried to
teaches their way
They scorned us just
for being what we are
But they might
as well go chasing
after moonbeams
Or light a penny
candle from a star
And if there's going
to be a life hereafter
And somehow
I'm sure there's
going to be
I will ask my God
to let me make
my heaven
In that dear land
across the Irish sea