How often haunting the highest hilltop I scan the ocean, a sail to see Will it come tonight, love, will it come tomorrow Or ever come, love, to comfort me
(chorus the boatman in gaelic): O fare thee well, love, where'er thou be
They call thee fickle, they call thee false one And seek to change me but all in vain Thou art my dream yet throughout the dark night And every moment I watch the main
There's not a hamlet, too well I know it, Where you go wandering or stay awhile But all it's old folk you win with talking And charm it's maidens with song and smile
Doth thou remember the promise made me, A token plead, a silken gown That ring of gold with your hair and portrait That gown and ring I will never own
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