Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you, must go and I must bide
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed or white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,—
Oh, Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so

And if you come when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find thе place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Avé thеre for me
And I shall hear, though soft shoes tread above me
And all my grave shall warmer, sweeter be
Then you will come and tell me that you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!