A Drowned Man's Sweetheart

Fiachra, Fiachra, 
Call all your waves to heel: 
The moon is white as death to-night, 
The air is sharp to feel. 
My Ulick's sailing far to-night — 
You kind, kind folk that are 
To fade away like dew at day, 
Light up your evening star. 

Fiachra, Fiachra, 
Keep guard down all the coast, 
For sure am I that I would die 
If Ulick's boat were lost. 
Oh, show the rocks and show the shore, 
And show the open bay; 
I'm blind with tears for all the years 
Since Ulick sailed away. 

Fiachra, Fiachra, 
Where Manan's table's set 
Under the sea he sits maybe, 
And dreams of Aileen yet. 
Tell him she's wed and Terence dead, 
And lone I sit and spin — 
In Mary's name, from the sea-flame 
And sea-dusk, call him in! 

Fiachra, Fiachra; 
Are all the faces fair 
Under the sea, and merrily 
Rings all the laughter there? 
Mavrone! for O my roses go, 
My singing voice is broke — 
So bid him stay for ever away 
Among the kind sea-folk.