A young gentleman came riding past. On a snow blue winters day. He asked to drink by our fire. And I was pleased to let him stay. He drank there quietly for a while. And then he turned and said to me. Your eyes are green. Like summer grass. Your lips are red. Like a fresh cut rose. Your hair is soft. Like an Irish stream. And your voice. Is filled with sweet beauty. And the last words I heard him say. Were I shall return. For you. My love. On Christmas Day. And the night will come. But I won't sleep. As I watch the stars that lead him. I cannot place where he is. But still my heart goes with him. I'm saving all my Sunday clothes. For the day that I'll be leaving. Father knows. My sister knows. And my friends. They're happy for me. And the priest he says. You should thank God. For the blessing. Of such beauty. And the last words. I heard him say. Were I shall return. For you. My love. On Christmas Day. I shall return. For you. My love. On Christmas Day. (On Christmas Day). (I shall return for you my love). And the last words. I heard him say. Were the last words. I ever. Heard him say. I shall return. For you. My love. On Christmas Day. I swear. I will return. On Christmas Day. And yes. I shall return. On Christmas Day. I shall return. For you. On Christmas Day. My love. I will return. On Christmas Day. I shall return. My love. On Christmas Day. On Christmas Day