My Wild Irish Rose
Composer(s): Chauncey Olcott
Performer(s): John McCormack



If you'll listen, I'll sing you a sweet little song
Of a flower that's now drooped and dead
Yet dearer to me, yes, than all of its mates
Tho' each holds aloft its proud head
'Twas given to me by a girl that I know
Since we've met, faith, I've known no repose
She is dearer by far than the world's brightest star
And I call her my wild Irish Rose
My wild Irish Rose
The sweetest flow'r that grows
You may search ev'rywhere
But none can compare
With my wild Irish Rose
My wild Irish Rose
The dearest flow'r that grows
And some day for my sake
She may let me take
The bloom from my wild Irish Rose

They may sing of their roses which, by other names
Would smell just as sweetly, they say
But I know that my Rose would never consent
To have that sweet name taken away
Her glances are shy when e'er I pass by
The bower, where my true love grows
And my one wish has been that some day I may win
The heart of my wild Irish Rose
My wild Irish Rose
The sweetest flow'r that grows
You may search ev'rywhere
But none can compare
With my wild Irish Rose
My wild Irish Rose
The dearest flow'r that grows
And some day for my sake
She may let me take
The bloom from my wild Irish Rose