Mona Machree! och, the sootherin’ flow of it,
Soft as the sea,
Yet, in-under the mild, moves the wild undertow of it
Tuggin’ at me,
Until both the head and the heart o’ me's fightin’
For breath, nigh a death all so grandly invitin’
That — barrin’ your own livin’ yet — I'd delight in,
Drowned in the deeps of this billowy song to you
Sung by a lover your beauty has banned,
Not alone from your love but his dear native land,
Whilst the kiss of his lips, and touch of his hand,
And his song — all belong to you,
Mona Machree!
WILLIAM McKINLEY