Red Is the Rose

Come over the hills, my bonny Irish lass

Comer over the hills to your darling;

You choose the rose, love, and I'll make the vow

And I'll be your true love forever.

Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows,

And fair is the lily of the valley;

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any.

'Twas down by Killarney's green woods that we strayed

And the moon and the stars they were shining;

The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair

And she swore she'd be my love forever.

Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows,

And fair is the lily of the valley;

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any.

It's not for the parting that my sister pains

It's not for the grief of my mother,

"Tis all for the loss of my bonny Irish lass

That my heart is breaking forever.

Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows,

And fair is the lily of the valley;

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any.

Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows,

And fair is the lily of the valley;

Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne

But my love is fairer than any.