The autumn leaves are here again
The night winds chill blow
The woodlands turn to golden hue
The harvest moon's aglow
I dream again of days gone past
To come again once more
When we mowed Pat Murphy's meadow
In the sunny long ago.

Where are those pretty girls and boys
Who danced in the gay quadrille?
And the singer who warbled sweetly
'The Burning Granite Mill'?
There was music soft and tender
On the wind that whispered low
When we mowed Pat Murphy's meadow
In the sunny long ago.

I see the blue of ocean the distant sails afar'
And the maiden in the meadow
Strikes up 'Dark Lochnagar'
Just to hear again at sunset
'Where Sweet Afton Water's Flow'
When we mowed Pat Murphy's meadow
In the sunny long ago

These days are but a memory
Like snow of a yesteryear
And when evening shades are falling
All alone I shed a tear
On my cheeks there falls the soft touch
Of the wind that whispered low
When we mowed Pat Murphy's meadow
In the sunny long ago.

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