Mo chreach ghéarchúiseach
Ná rabhas ar do chúlaibh
Nuair lámhadh an púdar
Go ngeobhainn é im chom dheas
Nó i mbinn mo ghúna
Is go léigfinn cead siúil leat
A mharcaigh na súl nglas
Ós tú b'fhearr léigean chucu

(English translation)

My biting bitter loss
I was not at your back
When the powder was fired
So my fine waist could save you
Or the hem of my dress
'til I let you go free
My slate-eyed writer
Well-able for them all