Looks identical, Wolfgang:

My Connor, his cheeks are as ruddy as morning
The brightest of pearls do but mimic his teeth
While nature with ringlets his mild brow's adorning
His hair Cupid's bow-strings, and roses his breath

Chorus
Smiling, beguiling, cheering, endearing
Together how oft o'er the mountains we strayed
By each other delighted and fondly united
I have listened all day to my dear Irish Boy

No roebuck more swift could fly over the mountain
No veteran bolder meet danger or scars
He's sightly, he's sprightly, he's clear as the fountain
His eyes twinkle love - O he's gone to the wars.

The soft tuneful lark, his note's 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 ill ne'er cease to weep

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.

Street ballad? Doubt it! ^^