Oh Stóirín, oh why do you tease, when you know that I’m faithful and true?
My heart is as slight as a breeze whenever I’m looking on you.
There isn’t a land or a throne, or anything under the sun
That I’ll give for one jewel alone, that jewel that is hard to be won.

O Róisín a-stoirín, no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.

You trip with the lad through the dance, whilst I in the corner do pine
And dreaming like one in a trance, and thinking some day you’d be mine.

O Róisín a-stoirín, no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.

O stóirín I’ll wait for the word, for I know you shall speak it some day.
And it’s then with a heart of a bird, I’ll bear you in triumph away.
There won’t be a happier pair, it’s from faraway Foyle to Fermoyle,
And your beautiful self is your share, and I’ll be the comical boy.

O Róisín a-stoirín no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.