She lived beside the Anner At the foot of Slievna-man A gentle peasant girl With mild eyes like the dawn Her lips were dewy rosebuds Her teeth of pearls rare And a snow-drift 'neath a beechen bough Her neck and nut-brown hair How pleasant was to meet her On Sunday when the bell Was filling with its mellow tone Lone wood and grassy dell And when at eve young maidens Strayed the river bank along The widow's brown-haired daughter Was loveliest of the throng O brave, brave Irish girls We well may call you brave Sure the least of all your perils Is the stormy ocean wave When you leave our quiet valleys And cross the Atlantic's foam To hoard your hard-won earnings For the helpless ones at home Write word to my own dear mother Say we'll meet with God above And tell my little brothers I send them all my love May the angels ever guide them Is their dying sister's prayer And folded in a letter Was a braid of nut-brown hair Ah cold and well-nigh callous This weary heart has grown For thy helpless fate, dear Ireland And for sorrows of my own Yet a tear, my eye will moisten When by Anner side I stray For the lily of the mountain foot That withered far away