The Dark-Eyed Gypsy ft. Eamon O' Leary Lyrics

I will hang my harp on a willow tree

And it's off to the wars again

My peaceful home holds no joy for me

Nor the battlefield no pain

For the lady I love will soon be a bride

With a diadem on her brow

O why would she flatter my boyish pride

She is going to leave me now

She took me away from my warlike lord

She gave me a silken suit

I thought no more of my master's sword

But I played on my lady's lute

For she seemed to think me a boy above

All her pages of high degree

And had I but loved with a boyish love

It would have been better for me

Now I'll hide in my breast every selfish care

And I'll flush my pale cheeks with wine

And if smiles await the bridal pair

I will hasten to give them mine

I will dance and I'll sing though my heart might bleed

And I'll walk in that festive train

And if I survive it I'll mount my steed

And it's off to the wars again

One golden tress of her hair I'll twine In my helmet's sable plume

And on the fields of Palestine

I will seek an early doom

And if by some Saracen's hand I fall 'mid the noble and the brave

A tear from the lady I love is all

I will ask for a warrior's grave