It’s sad in Dooras when the tide is low,
And the green fields covered with the frost and snow,
And the dark nights lonely with the curlew’s cry,
And I thinking, thinking on the times gone by.
Chorus!
the happy summers of the olden days,
And the brown boats stealing through the golden haze,
The cuckoo calling from the woods within,
And my love beside me and the tide full in.
O was I not foolish when I let him go,
To seek his fortune where the wild winds blow
If a fair wind brought him to my aching heart,
\With my two arms round him we would never part.
O! the happy summers of the olden days,
And the brown boats stealing through the golden haze,
And the cuckoo calling from the woods within,
And my love beside me and the tide full in.
O a dear, dear letter on my fond heart lies,
And its words of promise more than life I prize,
For it whispers, “Stóirín, soon I’ll fortune win,
And return to claim you – and the tide full in.”
Chorus (2)
O! the happy summers will come back once more,
And the brown boats stealing to the sunset shore,
And the cuckoo calling from the woods within,
And my love beside me and the tide full in,
And my love beside me and the tide full in.