I sat within a valley green, Sat there with my true love
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My sad heart strove to choose between, Me old love and the new love
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The old for her, the new that made, Me think on Ireland dearly
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While soft the wind blew down the glade, And shook the golden barley
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Twas hard the mournful words to frame, To break the ties that bound us
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But harder still to bear the shame, Of foreign chains around us
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And so I said, "The mountain glen, I'll seek at morning early
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And join the brave united men", While soft wind shook the barley
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Twas sad I kissed away her tears, Her arms around me clinging
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When to my ears that fateful shot, Came out the wildwood ringing
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The bullet pierced my true love's breast, In life's young spring so early
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And there upon my breast she died, While soft wind shook the barley
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I bore her to some mountain stream, And many's the summer blossom
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I placed with branches soft and green, About her gore-stained bosom
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I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse, Then rushed o'er vale and valley
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My vengeance on the foe to wreak, While soft wind shook the barley
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Twas blood for blood without remorse, I took at Oulart Hollow
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I placed my true love's clay-cold corpse, Where mine full soon may follow
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Around her grave I wondered drear, Noon, night and morning early
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With aching heart when e'er I hear, The wind that shakes the barley
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The Wind That Shakes The Barley
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| Loreena McKennitt |
