Her shoulder length dark hair was tossing in the breeze
The birds they were singing on the leafy trees
And bluebells were blooming on the ditch of the bohreen
When last i did see her the Pride of Dooneen
Wearing a knee length blue dress she was only nineteen
In her Town-land of Millstreet the finest to be seen
The yearn of the wander did lure her away
From the place where she first looked on the lamp of day
A long time ago for i was a boy then
And green to life's ways for i was only ten
She did look so beautiful free of conceit and guile
And i was enamoured by her beautiful smile
From Dooneen in view of high Claramore
The lure of the wander took her to a distant shore
Far from her home by the Town of Millstreet
From the green countryside where the rivers do meet
In Dooneen one of those not destined to stay
I wonder is she of the living today
Or in some distant cemetery does her remains lay
One only can wonder as the wise one does say?
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