O Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
  From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
  The summer's gone and all the roses falling;
  It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.
    But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
  Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
  I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow;
  Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so!
    But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying
  If I am dead, as dead I may well be.
  Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying.
  And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
    And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me;
  And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be.
  For you will bend and tell me that you love:
  And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!