It is the same song, and I'm pretty sure it's by Norman Blake - I seem to remember hearing that from someone who would know. (Can't remember who, of course.) Great song. It does often just get called Billy Grey, correctly or not - in the shorthand way folks have of just using the first couple of words in the opening line as a stand-in for the title (especially when it's long, as this one is). I see this thread is 11 years old - wonder if Minstrel ever got his/her tabs? Anyway, DT sez:

Copyright Control
recorded by Planxty on "The Woman I Loved So Well" (1980)
Copyright Control
"In December 1979 I met Noel Shine (whistle) in the Phoenix Pub,
Cork, where he sang this song for me. It was written by Norman
Blake and it's special in that it's the first cowboy song I've
heard in a Cork City pub." - Christy Moore


[Bonnie again]: I've underlined a couple of lyrics-corrections to the DT version:


TRUE LOVE KNOWS NO SEASON
(Norman Blake)
As sung by Planxty

Billy Gray rode into Gantry way back in '83.
There he first met with young Sarah MacLane.
The wild rose of morning, the pale flower of dawning
Hurled a Heralded springtime into in Billy's life that day.

Sarah she could not see the daylight of reality.
In her young eyes Billy bore not a flaw,
Knowing not her chosen one, he was a hired gun,
Wanted in Kansas City by the law.

Then one day a tall man came riding from the badlands
That lie to the north of New Mexico.
He was overheard to say he was looking for Billy Gray,
A wanted man and a danger said law dangerous outlaw.

Well, the news it came creeping to Billy fast sleeping
There in the Clarendon Bar and Hotel.
He ran to the old church that lies on the outskirts,
Thinking he'd hide in the old steeple bell.

But a rifle ball came flying. Face down he lay dying
There in the dust of the road where he lay.
Sarah ran to him. She was cursing the lawman.
The poor girl knew no reason, except that he'd been killed.

Sarah still lives in that old white frame house
Where she first met Billy some forty years ago,
But the wild rose of morning has faded with the dawning
Of each day of sorrow the long years have grown.

And written on the stone where the dusty winds have long blown,
Eighteen words to a passing world say:
"True love knows no season, no rhyme or no reason.
Justice is cold as the Granger County clay.

"True love knows no season, no rhyme or no reason.
Justice is cold as the Granger County clay."