A Stór Mo Chroí

A Stor Mo Chroi, when you're far away

From the house that you'll soon be leaving

Sure it's many a time by night and by day

That your heart will be sorely grieving

For the stranger's land may be bright and fair

And rich in all treasures golden

You'll pine, I know, for the long, long ago

And the heart that is never olden

A Stor Mo Chroi, in the stranger's land

There's plenty of wealth and wailing

Though gems adorn the rich and grand

There are faces with hunger pailing

The road may be weary, and hard to tread

And the lights of the city blind you

Oh turn, A Stor, to old Erin's shore

And the ones you have left behind you

A Stor Mo Chroi, when the evening's mist

In the mountain and meadow is falling

Oh turn, A Stor, from the throng and list

And maybe you'll hear me calling

For the sound of a voice that you seldom hear

For somebody's speedy returning

A rún, a rún, Oh, won't you come back soon

To the one who really loves you