Traditional Folk - Curragh of Kildare lyrics

The winter it has pa**ed And the summer's come at last And the birds, they are singing in the trees Their little hearts are glad Ah, but mine is very sad For my true love is far away from me The rose upon the briar By the water running clear Givess joy to the linnet and the bee Their little hearts are blessed But mine, it's not at rest For my true love is absent from me And it's straight I will repair To the Curragh of Kildare For it's there I'll find tidings of my dear All you that are in love And and cannot it remove I pity the pains that you endure For experience lets me know That your hearts are full with woe And a woe that no mortal can endure And it's straight I will repair To the Curragh of Kildare For it's there I'll find tidings of my dear Straight I will repair To the Curragh of Kildare For it's there I'll find tidings of my dear