Her brow is like the lily

Her brow is like the lily,

Her cheek is like the rose,

And fair as daffodilly

Her yellow coolun flows.

Ne'er blue so tender

Flowed in a glance,

And ne'er shape as slender

Went gliding in the dance.

'Twas up among the mountains,

She lived all alone,

Where Connemara's fountains

Fall chiming on the stone.

Singing I found her

Down in a dell,

With all the birds round her

Entranced before her spell.

I asked why she was leading

So lonesome a life,

And long my passion pleading,

Besought her for my wife.

“Ah! Hasty lover,

You woo in vain,

But when a year's over

Come seek me here again.”

Oh! Early up the mountain

When that year was o'er,

The creeping minutes counting,

I climbed and climbed once more,

Till at last I found you,

Dear Valentine,

And stole my arms around you,

And knew your heart was mine.