The Maid of Culmore

Leaving sweet lovely Derry for fair London town

There is no finer harbour all around can be found

Where the youngsters each evening go down to the shore

And the joy bells are ringing for the maid of Culmore

The first time I saw her she passed me by

And the next time I saw her she bid me goodbye

But the last time I saw her it grieved my heart sore

For she sailed down Loch Foyle and away from Culmore

If I had the power the storms for to rise

I would make the wind blow and I'd darken the skies

I would make the wind blow high and the salt seas to roar

Till the day that my darling sailed away from Culmore

To the back parts of America my love I'll go and see

For it's there I know no-one and no-one knows me

And if I don't find her I'll return home no more

Like a pilgrim I'll wander for the maid of Culmore