For Ireland I'd Not Tell Her Name
Last eve as I wandered quiet near,
To the border's of my little farm,
A beautiful maiden appeared,
Whose loveliness caused my heart's harm,
By her daring and love smitten sour,
And the words from her sweet lips that came,
To meet her I raced the field oer,
But for Ireland i'd not tell her name.


If this beauty but my words would heed
The words that I speak would be true,
I'd help her in every need,
And indeed all her work I would do,
To win one fond kiss from my love,
I'd read her romances of fame,
Her champion I daily would prove,
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.


There's a beautiful stately young maid,
At the nearing of my little farm,
She's welcoming kind unafraid,
Her smile is both childlike and warm,
Her gold hair in masses that grows
Like amber and sheen is that same,
And the bloom in her cheeks like the rose,
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

http://martindardis.com/id70.html

Anyone know the story of this song, why her name couldn't be told etc?