You waves though you dance by my feet like children at play

Though you glow and you glance though you purr and you dart;

In the Junes that were warmer than these are the waves were more gay

When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.

The herring are not in the tides as they were of old;

My sorrow! for many a creak gave the creel in the cart

That carried the take to Sligo town to be sold

When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.

And ah you proud maiden you are not so fair when his oar

Is heard on the water as they were the proud and apart

Who paced in the eve by the nets on the pebbly shore

When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.