I.

O H ! the marriage, the marriage,
With love and mo bhuachaill for me,
The ladies that ride in a carriage
Might envy my marriage to me;
For Eoghan is straight as a tower,
And tender and loving and true,
He told me more love in an hour
Than the Squires of the county could do
Then, Oh! the marriage, &c.

II.

His hair is a shower of soft gold,
His eye is as clear as the day,
His conscience and vote were unsold
When others were carried away;
His word is as good as an oath,
And freely 'twas given to me;
Oh! sure 'twill be happy for both
The day of our marriage to see.
Then, Oh! the marriage, &c.

III.

His kinsmen are honest and kind,
The neighbours think much of his skill,
And Eoghan's the lad to my mind,
Though he owns neither castle nor mill.
But ho has a tilloch of land,
A horse and a stocking of coin,
A foot for the dance and a hand
In the cause of his country to join.
Then, Oh! the marriage, &c.

IV.

We meet in the market and fair —
We meet in the morning and night —
He sits on the half of my chair,
And my people are wild with delight.
Yet I long through the winter to skim,
Though Eoghan longs more I can see,
When I will be married to him,
And he will be married to me.
Then, Oh! the marriage, the marriage,
With love and mo bhuachaill for me,
The ladies that ride in a carriage,
Might envy my marriage to me.