The sailor's bride

And is he coming home today

Who all these years has ranged?

And will he be the same to me,

Although so have changed?

The same again, the same as when

At first he courting came

And looked me through with eyes so blue --

Ah, will he be the same?

I would have dressed in all my best;

He'd have me wear my worst,

The faded gown of home spun brown

In which I met him first.

My woman's heart would have me smart;

I'm but a woman still.

Yet hide, gay gown, come, old one down;

Let Donal have his way.

The Southern Star has fetched the Bar,

She's signalled from the land.

Quick, little Donal, to my arms!

Now on my shoulders stand!

There, there she sails! He's at the rails.

For joy my eyes run o'er.

Wave, little lad, to your own dad!

Aye, 'tis himself once more.