THE ROSE OF TRALEE.
The bright morn was rising above the green mountains.
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
When I strayed with my love to the cool, crystal fountain
That stands in the beautiful vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose in Summer,
Yet it was not her beauty alone that won me;
Ah! no; 'twas the truth in her eye ever beaming
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,
And Mary, all blushing, was listening to me;
The moon through the valley her pale ray was shedding
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.-Chorus.