She moved through the fair (arr. H. Hughes) - John McCormack, Gerald Moore

My young love said to me,

My mother won’t mind

And my father won’t slight you

For your lack of kine.

And she laid her hand on me

And this she did say:

It will not be long, Love,

Till our wedding day.

As she stepped away from me

And she moved through the fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there.

And then she made her way homeward,

With one star awake,

As the swan in the evening

Moved over the lake.

The people were saying,

No two e’er were wed

But one had a sorrow

That never was said.

And I smiled as she passed

With her goods and her gear,

And that was the last

That I saw of my dear

Last night she came to me,

My dead love came in.

So softly she came

That her feet made no din.

As she laid her hand on me,

And this she did say:

It will not be long, love,

'Til our wedding day.