As I roved out one evening — down by the Assembly Mall
I heard two lovers speaking — as me and my love passed on But words that passed between them — they were but very few:
«It's not the leaving of Limerick that grieves me,
But my darling, leaving you!»
«In the morning when I am going I will take you by the lily-white hand,
And I’ll wave it all over my shoulder, sayin' adieu to the Limerick Strand;
So farewell to the boys of Thomond Gate, it’s to them I bid adieu;
It’s not the leaving of Limerick that grieves me,
But my darling, leaving you!»
«But now that we must be parted — I know you will understand,
Why I must go broken hearted far away from my native land;
Though, My fond love, I must leave you, you know my heart is true;
It’s not the leaving of Limerick that grieves me,
But my darling, leaving you!"
Though, My fond love, I must leave you, you know my heart is true;
It’s not the leaving of Limerick that grieves me,
But my darling, leaving you!"