Fhir A Bhata (The Boatman)

How often haunting the highest hilltop
I scan the ocean, a sail to see
Will it come tonight, love? Will it come tomorrow?
Or ever come, love, to comfort me?

Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
O fare thee well, love, where'er thou be

They call thee fickle, they call thee false one
And seek to change me but all in vain
Thou art my dream yet throughout the dark night
And every moment I watch the main

Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
O fare thee well, love, where'er thou be

There's not a hamlet, too well I know it
Where you go wandering or stay awhile
But all its old folk you win with talking
And charm its maidens with song and smile

Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
O fare thee well, love, where'er thou be

Doth thou remember the promise made me
A tartan plead, a silken gown?
That ring of gold with your hair and portrait?
That gown and ring I will never own

Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
Fhír a' Bháta no hóró eile
O fare thee well, love, where'er thou be