  There ’s a Kerry lad a-wandering across the dipping sea, A Kerry lad a-wandering the foam, And oh, the swelling joy of it, the joy that there will be When that wandering Kerry lad comes home! There ’ll be glad voices calling him, glad voices in the street, And hands to clasp the hands of the gossoon; There ’ll be soft winds a-whispering above the fields of peat, And little birds a-carolling in tune! The Kerry sky ’ll be bluer then, for all the clouds will part, And greener ’ll be the grass above the loam, And oh, the happy feeling in one lonely Irish heart When that wandering Kerry lad comes home! |
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