when I was young my life was spent by sillies groves and streams
each moment was a sparkling joy and everyday a dream
oh many and many the hour I spent while yet the sun was low
a listening to the linnet rare that charms the groves of boho
I knew the mavis of monea the blackbird of stratore
the lily rock of carngreen and the gold finch of knockmore
but of all the birds in bush or sky that sang so long ago
none can compare with the linnet rare that charms the groves of boho
I knew a whitewashed cabin along side carngreen
I knew a red haired colleen as bright as morning beams
I knew a hundred thousand joys that over my life did flow
as the lovely little linnets charms the groves of boho
oh wander east or wander west or wander far or near
that little linnets plaintive voice still pleading in my ear
still calling calling calling why do you wander so
why leave these happy happy woods come back come back to boho
so now please god ill bundle up and cut a stout blackthorn
the rising sun will meet me on the road tomorrow morn
farewell Ill cry Ill weep and sign to weather and woe
tis wealth Ill seek in a foreign clime as the linnets sings in boho