| Song | My Dearest Dear |
| Artist | Connie Dover |
| Album | The Border of Heaven |
| 作曲 : Traditional | |
| My Dearest dear, the time is near when I and you must part | |
| And no one knows the inner grief of my poor aching heart. | |
| Or what I suffer for your sake, for the one I love so dear. | |
| I wish that I could go with you or you could tarry here. | |
| I wish my heart were made of glass, that in it I might behold | |
| Your name in secret I would write letters of bright gold | |
| Your name in secret I would write, pray believe me when I say | |
| You are the one that I love best until my dying day. | |
| Mo gra thu, a stoirin (I love you, my Darling) | |
| And when you're on some distant shore think on your absent friend | |
| And when the wind blows high and clear, a line or two pray send | |
| And when the wind blows high and clear, pray send it, love, to me | |
| That I may know by your hand write how times have gone with thee | |
| My dearest dear, the time is near when you and I must part | |
| And no one knows the inner grief of my poor aching heart | |
| Or what I suffer for your sake, for the one I love so dear | |
| I wish that I could go with you or you could tarry here |
| zuò qǔ : Traditional | |
| My Dearest dear, the time is near when I and you must part | |
| And no one knows the inner grief of my poor aching heart. | |
| Or what I suffer for your sake, for the one I love so dear. | |
| I wish that I could go with you or you could tarry here. | |
| I wish my heart were made of glass, that in it I might behold | |
| Your name in secret I would write letters of bright gold | |
| Your name in secret I would write, pray believe me when I say | |
| You are the one that I love best until my dying day. | |
| Mo gra thu, a stoirin I love you, my Darling | |
| And when you' re on some distant shore think on your absent friend | |
| And when the wind blows high and clear, a line or two pray send | |
| And when the wind blows high and clear, pray send it, love, to me | |
| That I may know by your hand write how times have gone with thee | |
| My dearest dear, the time is near when you and I must part | |
| And no one knows the inner grief of my poor aching heart | |
| Or what I suffer for your sake, for the one I love so dear | |
| I wish that I could go with you or you could tarry here |