O who will comb my yellow locks?

With the brown berry comb

And who will be the child’s father?

Until Gregory comes home

The rain falls on my yellow locks

The dew wets my skin

My babe lies cold in my arms

O Gregory let me in

If you be the lass of Aughrim

As I’m taking you to be

Then tell me the first token

That passed between you and me

O Gregory don’t you remember

That night on yon green hill

When we swapped rings from each other’s hands

And sorely against my will

If you be the lass of Aughrim

As I’m suppose you not to be

Come tell me the last token

That passed between you and me

O Gregory don’t you remember

In my father’s hall

Where you had your will of me

And that was worst of all

The rain falls on my yellow locks

The dew wets my skin

My babe lies cold in my arms

O Gregory let me in