The Fair Hills Of Eire O! - Irish Folk Song

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The Fair Hills Of Eire O!

Take a blessing from my heart to the land of Ireland
The fair hills of Ireland Ó
And to those alive of the seed of Éiriú and Heber
The fair hills of Ireland Ó
In that place where delightful were sweet voices of birds
Like the tranquil gentle harp lamenting the Irish
My sorrow to be miles and miles away
From the fair hills of Ireland Ó

I don't see their herds going along this way
On the fair hills of Ireland Ó
And I don't see their cattle being guided to graze there
On the fair hills of Ireland Ó
But ships being driven by violent winds
With high seas forever at their sides
May I be left in my own province yet
On the fair hills of Ireland Ó

The dew is scattered on cornfield and grass
On the fair hills of Ireland Ó
And fragrant apples grow on boughs there
On the fair hills of Ireland Ó
There is cress and sorrel in hazy glens
And streams in summer speaking at noon
And the Suir's water swelling into whirlpools
By the fair hills of Ireland Ó


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