Heather on the Moor
                Traditional

This is quite likely a song of Scottish origin (Among the Heather Doon the Moor), but as with many other songs has become part of the Irish tradition.

Album: Coming Home/Bill & Lin O'Connor and Larry Theiss

As I roved out on a bright May morning, calm and clear was the weather
I chanced to roam some miles from home among the beautiful blooming heather
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        I chanced to roam some miles from home among the beautiful blooming heather
        And it's heather on the moor.

As I roved along with my hunting song, my heart as light as any feather
I met a pretty maid upon the way, she was tripping the dew down from the heather
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        I met a pretty maid upon the way, she was tripping the dew down from the heather
        And it's heather on the moor.

"Where are you going my pretty young maid, by hill or dale come tell me whether"
Right modestly she answered me, "To the feeding of my lambs together."
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        Right modestly she answered me, "To the feeding of my lambs together."
        And it's heather on the moor.

We both shook hands and down we sat, it being the longest day of summer
We sat till the red setting beams of the sun came sparklin' down among the heather
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        We sat till the red setting beams of the sun came sparklin' down among the heather
        And it's heather on the moor.

"Now," she says, "I must away, my lambs and sheep have strayed from mother
For I am loath to part from you as those fond lambs are to part the mother."
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        For I am loath to part from you as those fond lambs are to part the mother
        And it's heather on the moor.

Up she rose and away she goes, her name or place I know not either
But if I were king I'd make her queen, the lass I met among the heather
        And it's heather on the moor, over the heather
        Over the moor and among the heather
        But if I were king I'd make her queen, the lass I met among the heather
        And it's heather on the moor.