The Curragh of Kildare Winter it is past, and the summer comes at last, And the small birds are singing in the trees. An their little hearts are glad, ah but mine is very sad, Since my true love is far away from me. Chorus Oh when straight I will repair to the curragh of Kildare, For it’s there I’ll find tidings of my dear. Ah the rose apon the briar and the waters running clear, It brings joy to the linnet and the bee. Oh their little hearts are blessed, ah but mine can know no rest, Since my true love is far away from me. The livery I’ll wear, oh and I’ll comb back my hair, And enveloped in green I will appear. Oh when straight I will repair to the curragh of Kildare, For it’s there I’ll find tidings of my dear. I’ll wear a cap of black, with some frills around my neck, Golden rings on my fingers I will wear. Ah yes this I’ll undertake, for my own true lover’s sake, For she lives in the curragh of Kildare. All you who are in love and who cannot it remove, I pity the thing you do endure. For experience lets me know, that your hearts are full of woe. Yes, a woe that no other can cure.
Music; traditional. Content copyright © 2000 held by the author; Ian Hall.
