from a secondary source, Walton's New Treasury of Irish Songs and Ballads, Part I, 1968:

THE DEAR IRISH BOY

1. My Connor, his cheeks are as ruddy as morning,
The brightest of pearls do not mimic his teeth;
While nature with ringlets his mild brows adorning,
His hair, Cupid's bow-strings, and roses his breath.

Chorus :

Smiling, beguiling
Cheering, endearing,
Together how oft o'er the mountains we stray'd;
By each other delighted,
And fondly united,
I have listened all day to my dear Irish boy.

2. No roebuck more swift could fly over the mountain,
No veteran bolder meet danger or scars,
He's slightly, he's sprightly, he'is clear as the fountain,
His eyes beaming love; Oh! he's gone to the wars.

3. The soft tuneful lark, his notes changed to mourning,
The dark-screaming owl impedes my night's sleep,
While lonely I walk in the shade of the evening,
Till my Connor's return I will ne'er cease to weep.

4. The war being over, and he not returned,
I fear that some dark envious plot has been laid;
Or that some cruel goddess has him captivated,
And left here to mourn his dear Irish maid.

Wolfgang ^^