Cean Dubh Deelish

Put your head, darling, darling, darling,   Your darling black head my heart above; O mouth of honey, with thyme for fragrance,   Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love? O many and many a young girl for me is pining,   Letting her locks of gold to the cold wind free, For me, the foremost of our gay young fellows;   But I'd leave a hundred, pure love, for thee! Then put your head, darling, darling, darling,   Your darling black head my heart above; O mouth of honey, with thyme for fragrance,   Who, with heart in breast, could deny you love?