I obtained an abc copy of the tune along with these lyrics from the Mud Cat Traditional Music Site. These specific lyrics were provided my Liam Hart (Phillipa)
Seal da rabhas im' mhaighdean shiimh[shéimh] 'S anois im' bhaintreach chaite thriith [thréith] Mo chiile[chéile] ag treabhadh ne[na] dtonn go trian[tréan] vDe bharr na gcnoc is in imigiin.[imigéin]
Curfa 'Si['Sé] mo laoch, mo Ghile Mear 'Si['Sé] mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear. Suan na sian[séan] nm[ní] bhfuaireas fiin[féin] O chuaigh in gciin[gcéin] mo Ghile Mear.
Bmmse[bímse] buan ar buairt gach ls[ló] Ag caoi go ctuaidh[cruaidh] 's ag tuar na ndeor Mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beo 'S na[ná] rmomhtar[ríomhtar] tuairisc uaidh mo bhrsn. [bhrón]
Nm[ní] lagnrann[?] cuach go suairc ar nsin[nóin] ** Is nml[níl] guth gadhair i gcoillte cns[cnó] Na maidin shamhraidh i gcleanntaibh ceoi O d'imigh uaim an buachaill beo. **I don't recognise the word 'lagnrann'. In other printed versions we have "Ní haoibhinn cuach ba suairc ar nóin]
Marcach uasal uaibhreach sg [óg] Gas gan gruaim is suairce sns[snó] Glac is luaimneach luath i ngleo Ag teascadh an tslua 's ag tuairgan[tuargain] tria [treon]
Seinntear stair[stáir] ar chlairsigh[chláirsigh] cheoil Is liontair[líontar] tainte[táinte] cart ar bord Le hinntinn[hintinn] ard gan chaim[cháim] gan cheo Chun saol is slainte[sláinte] d'fhail don[dom'] leon.
Ghile mear 'sa seal faoi chumha 'S Eire[Éire] go liir[léir] faoi chlscaibh[clócaibh] dubha Suan na sian[séan] nm[ní] bhfuaireas fiin[féin] O luaidh i gciin[gcéin] mo Ghile Mear.
For a while I was a gentle maiden And now a spent worn-out widow My spouse ploughing the waves strongly Over the hills and far away.
cho: He is my hero, my dashing darling He is my Caesar, dashing darling. I've had no rest from forebodings Since he went far away my darling.
Every day I am constantly sad Weeping bitterly and shedding tears Because our lively lad has left us And no news from him is heard alas.
The cuckoo sings not pleasantly at noon And the sound of hounds is not heard in nut-filled woods, Nor summer morning in misty glen Since he went away from me, my lively boy.
Noble, proud young horseman Warrior unsaddened, of most pleasant countenace A swift-moving hand, quick in a fight, Slaying the enemy and smiting the strong.
Let a strain be played on musical harps And let many quarts be filled With high spirit without fault or mist For life and health to toast my lion.
Dashing darling for a while under sorrow And all Ireland under black cloaks Rest or pleasure I did not get Since he went far away my dashing darling.
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