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The autumn days are her again and the night winds chilly blow
The woodlands turn to golden hue and the harvest moons aglow
To hear again of days long past to come no more I know
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago
I see again the ocean and the distant sails afar
As the maiden in the me4adow strikes up dark loch lagar
There was music soft and tender in the winds that whispered low
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago
Where are the happy boys and girls that danced the gay quadrill
Or the singer that warbled sweetly the burning granite mill
To hear again at sunset where sweet afton waters flow
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago
Those days are but a emory like the snows of yester years
And when evening shades are falling all alone I shed a tear
On my cheek I feel the soft touch of the winds that whispered low
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago