In Banbridge Town near the County Down
One morning last July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet, from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair.
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.
From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin Town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head,
And I looked with a feeling rare.
And I says, says I, to a passer-by,
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and he said, said he,
"She's the gem of Ireland's crown,
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down."
I've travelled a bit but was never smit
Since my roving career began.
But fair and square, I surrendered there
To the charms of Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let, and no tenant yet
Had I met in a shawl or gown.
But in she went, and I asked no rent
From the Star of the County Down.
At the harvest fair, she'll be surely there,
So I'll dress in my Sunday clothes,
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut-brown rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke,
'Til my plough is a rust-coloured brown,
'Til a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down.
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