The Rose of Tralee
Free Sheet music for Treble Clef Instrument

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The Rose of Tralee







The Rose of Tralee

The pale moon was rising above yon green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea,
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,
That stands in the beautiful vale of Tralee.

Chorus:
She was lovely and fair, as the rose of the summer,
It was not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh no, t'was the truth in her eye ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee!

The cool shades of evening their mantles were spreading,
And Mary, all smiling, stood listn'ng to me,
When all through the valley her pale rays were shedding,
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.

Chorus:
She was lovely and fair, as the rose of the summer,
It was not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh no, t'was the truth in her eye ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, my Rose of Tralee!
(note that one word changed)
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About 'The Rose of Tralee'

Artist:
Born:
- , -
Died:
- , -
The Artist:
Traditional Music of unknown author.
Info:
The Rose of Tralee is a nineteenth-century Irish ballad about a woman called Mary, who because of her beauty was called The Rose of Tralee. The Rose of Tralee festival had been inspired by the ballad.

The words of the song are credited to Edward Mordaunt Spencer and the music to Charles William Glover, but a story circulated in connection with the festival claims that the song was written by William Pembroke Mulchinock, a wealthy Protestant, out of love for Mary O'Connor, a poor Catholic maid in service to his parents.

Lyrics

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,
That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,
And Mary all smiling was listening to me;
The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding,
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
Though lovely and fair as the Rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.


In the far fields of India, 'mid wars dreadful thunders,
Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,
But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder,
I'm lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
Number of Pages:
1
Difficulty:
Intermediate Level: Recommended for Intermediate Level players
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