And she smiled as she passed me by.
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair,
To make sure I was standing there.
And from Galway to Dublin Town,
That I met in the County Down.
And I gazed with a feeling rare.
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
"That's the gem of old Ireland's crown.
From the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down".
And a smile like the rose in June,
And you hung on each note
From her lily-white throat,
As she lilted an Irish tune.
You were held in a trance,
As she tripped through a reel or a jig;
And when her eyes she'd roll,
A spud from a hungry pig.
Since my roving career began;
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
Though I'd searched countryside and town;
From the Star of the county Down.
So I'll dress in my Sunday clothes.
With my shoes shone bright
For a smile from my nut-brown Rose.
Though my plough with the rust turn brown,
Sits the Star of the County Down.