As I Roved Out Lyrics - The Wind That Shakes The Barley - Loreena Mckennitt

And who are you, me pretty fair maid, and who are you, me honey? 

And who are you, me pretty fair maid, and who are you, me honey? 

She answered me quite modestly, "I am me mother's darling" 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

And will you come to me mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly 

And will you come to me mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly 

I'll open the door and I'll let you in, and divil 'o one would hear us 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

So I went to her house in the middle of the night, when the moon was shining clearly 

So I went to her house in the middle of the night, when the moon was shining clearly 

She opened the door and she let me in, and divil the one did hear us 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

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She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, and led him to the stable 

She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, and led him to the stable 

Saying, "There's plenty of oats for a soldier's horse, to eat it if he is able" 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

Then she took me by the lily-white hand, and led me to the table 

Then she took me by the lily-white hand, and led me to the table 

Saying, "There's plenty of wine for a soldier boy, to drink if he is able" 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

Then I got up and I made the bed, and I made it nice and aisy 

Then I got up and I made the bed, and I made it nice and aisy 

Then I got up and laid her down, saying, "Lassie, are you able?" 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

And there we lay till the break of day, and divil a one did hear us 

And there we lay till the break of day, and divil a one did hear us 

Then I arose, put on me clothes, saying, "Lassie, I must leave you" 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh 

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And when will you return again, and when will we be married 

And when will you return again, and when will we be married 

When broken shells make Christmas bells, we might then get married 

With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh