At Oranmore in the County Galway,
One pleasant evening in the month of May,
I spied a damsel, she was young and handsome
Her beauty fairly took my breath away.
She wore no jewels, nor costly diamonds,
No paint or powder, no, none at all.
But she wore a bonnet with a ribbon on it
And round her shoulder was a Galway Shawl.
We kept on walking, she kept on talking,
'Till her father's cottage came into view.
Says she: 'Come in, sir, and meet my father,
And play to please him "The Foggy Dew."'
She sat me down beside the fire
I could see her father, he was six feet tall.
And soon her mother had the kettle singing
All I could think of was the Galway shawl.
I played "The Blackbird" and "The Stack of Barley",
"Rodney's Glory" and "The Foggy Dew",
She sang each note like an Irish linnet.
Whilst the tears stood in her eyes of blue.
'Twas early, early, all in the morning,
When I hit the road for old Donegal.
She said 'Goodby, sir,'she cried and kissed me,
And my heart remained with that Galway shawl.