A bright and popular Irish love song. Traditional Irish.
The Harvest Fair she’ll be surely there
And I’ll dress in my Sunday clothes,
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut brown rose.
No pipe I’ll smoke, no horse I’ll yoke
Till my plough turns rust coloured brown.
Till my smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the star of the County Down.