The Flower Of Sweet Strabane

If I were King of Ireland
And all things at my will
I’d roam through all creations
New comforts to find still
And the comfort I would seek the most
As you might understand
Is to win the heart of Martha
The flower of sweet Strabane

Her cheeks they are a rosy red
Her hair a lovely brown
And o’er her milk white shoulders
It carelessly hangs down
She’s one of the fairest creatures
In the whole of Ireland
And my heart is captivated by
The flower of sweet Strabane

If I had you lovely Martha
Away in Innisowen
Or in some lonesome valley
In the wild woods of Tyrone
I would use my whole endeavour
To try to work my plan
For to gain the prize and feast my eyes
On the flower of sweet Strabane

But I’ll go o’er the Lagan
Down by the steam ships tall
I’m sailing for Amerikay
Whatever may be fall
My boat is bound for Liverpool
Right by the Isle of Man
So I’ll say farewell, God bless you
My flower of sweet Strabane