OK, so here's a version ready to harvest:

CÚILÍN (THE COOLIN)
(Dominic Behan?/ McDonagh?)

Oh say did you see her
by the gloaming or the sunrise
as she stepped like a fawn in Ballinagar
or sang far sweeter than the lark or thrush at eventide.
Red ripened her cheek is,
Like the berry upon a tree
and her neck more graceful than the swan is,
her lips like petals from the red rose smile on me.
When she was a little girl,
and I a tender child I loved her,
But her parents' money placed between us
So farewell my cúilín deas mo chroí
Fair Flower of Ballinagar
Wait for me forever,
By the place where we lay alone,
Through the night where the elfin storm winds whistle
and the old ash tremble in the dark with fearful moan.
I will come to my cúilín
Ere the life from my corpse shall wander
and will hold as I did when in my childhood
my little jewelled flower of Ballinagar.

Notes: Translated (rewritten) from an older Irish song. The town named could be any other with a similar pronounciation. The phrase cúilín deas mo chroí translates (loosely) to "sweet fair (haired) maiden of my heart."

Wolfgang