It is the beauty, the lady love 'of gave my heart kinder love,
As brighter than the top of the dew,
Whatever as atháim their I were to bháb,
Where Could I comment as those you,
Whatever as atháim their I were to bháb,
Where Could I as those you mention,
your foot, your waist, your hands, your humor, your fond usually,
your reputation, your view, your reputation and your mhúinteacht.

I am sick and can not get my medicine,
not wine and my favorite whey,
But my love for my arrival butter dh'fheighil one to 'the sweet,
is I would think to obtain my health,
Unless as I heal you, I will treighid,
from m'och from that I will die,
are not I pity those Chadhain butter, without pleasure, without humor, without mheidhir,
is thrust led shaighdí you I love.

If I received a nice girl who would sit down with m'ais,
not a good dh'áireoinn whatsoever,
Dh'ullmhódh my food properly, nífeadh my white shirt,
Those and my will to do,
I would flag it as silk, high shoe and plaid dress,
and her entire chóireoinn the charge in question,
turn the scarlet right, ribbons a dandy cap
and aprons of g Kingdom céimric.

According to the edge of my voice that feel the limb below the numbers,
ending the championship who have the sloe there,
the snow and the frost coming next the east,
is I love you or my mother,
ending with you over and here,
on land and at sea of tall,
would dtiocfása fhéineach I would marry you,
is not that my dying day scarfainnse you.

According east and ending west and ending O'Brien's Bridge,
and feel that was a sense of Ireland,
and feel that they accompany the fish in the seas behind,
and feel that was never his Damer,
Where Opportunity those than wine or moon bright the sun,
And píopaire followed on the hill,
not solve a maiden my pain without the right answer them poetically,
as it did I lost my senses.

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