As I'm sitting all alone in the gloaming,
It might have been but yesterday.
That we watched the fisher's sails all homing,
Till the little herring fleet at anchor lay.
Then the fisher girls with baskets swinging,
Came running down the old stone way.
Every lassie to her sailor lad was singing,
Ah welcome back to Bantry Bay.
Then we heard the pipers sweet note tuning,
And all the lassies turned to hear.
As they mingled with a soft voice crooning.
Till the music floated down the wooden pier.
Save you kindly, colleens all, said the piper
Hands across and trip it while I play.
And the tender sound of song and merry dancing,
Stole softly over Bantry Bay.
As I'm sitting all alone in the gloaming,
The shawdows of the past draw near.
And I see the lovely faces round me
That used to glad the old front pier.
Some have gone upon their last logged homing,
Some are left, but they are old and grey.
And we're waiting for the tide in the gloaming.
To sail upon the great highway.
To an isle of rest unending.
Called peacefully from Bantry Bay.
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