At the setting of the sun, when my daily work is done,
As I rambled by the seaside for a walk.
Sure I being all alone, I sat down upon a stone
For to gaze on the seas of New York.

Chorus:
Oh then Érin grá mo chroí you're the only land for me.
You're the fairest land my eyes have e'er behold.
You're the bright star of the west and the land Saint Patrick blessed.
You're far dearer than silver or gold.

It broke my mother's heart when from home I had to part.
Will I ever see my darling anymore?
Not until a judgement day when we both be far away,
In old Ireland far away o’er the foam.

Chorus:
Oh then Érin grá mo chroí you're the only land for me.
You're the fairest land my eyes have e'er behold.
You're the bright star of the west and the land Saint Patrick blessed.
You're far dearer than silver or gold.

The turf will burn bright on the hearths at home tonight.
And the snow-flakes will fall fast a winter’s day.
Saint Patrick’s Day will come, and the shamrock will be wore,
In my own, my native land far away.

Chorus:
Oh then Érin grá mo chroí you're the only land for me.
You're the fairest land my eyes have e'er behold.
You're the bright star of the west and the land Saint Patrick blessed.
You're far dearer than silver or gold.