I see there are some lyrics to this song...also known as My Grandmothers' Gardens....but only the chorus, and perhaps needs some corrections (may have been submitted by me, as it was posted as the way I sing it, but after listening and transcribing it today, I realize the wording is not quite the way the recording goes...

Rosalie would have been 87 on June 24, her birthday. She passed away on June 11, 2017 at 84 years old.
(i do have a question about a couple lines in the song...
but here is what I heard today as I madly typed away while listening...complete with bio info, etc.

MY GRANDMOTHERS’ GARDENS – ROSALIE SORRELS
Rosalie Ann Stringfellow Sorrels (June 24, 1933 – June 11, 2017) was an American folk singer-songwriter. She began her public career as a singer and collector of traditional folksongs in the late 1950s. During the early 1960s, she left her husband and began traveling and performing at music festivals and clubs throughout the United States. She and her five children traveled across the country as she worked to support her family and establish herself as a performer. Along the way, she made many lifelong friends among the folk and beat scene. Her career of social activism, storytelling, teaching, learning, songwriting, collecting folk songs, performing, and recording spanned six decades.

THE BELLS OF IRELAND – My Grandmothers’ Gardens – the horns of elfland faintly blowing
This song is for my grandmothers’ gardens and the green heart of an Irish fool.

CHORUS: These are the Bells of Ireland, that in my garden grow.
My great grandmother brought those seeds from Ireland long ago.
Their music it is wild and sad like orphan angels sing.
You must listen in your soul to hear those Bells of Ireland ring.

1. My mother’s father had the look of Ireland’s heroes bold:
Strong broad shoulders, raven eyes to look into your soul.
My father’s mother’s face was a map of the roads Maeve's feet had trod.
Those are the ones; I'm named for her; Lord, I love her lost old sod. CHORUS

2. I’ve never been to Ireland, though I sing of the cool green shores.
I dreamed I must have lived there some century before.
I’ll weep for the blood and the troubles and I’ll tend my garden well.
Let the sweet green bells of Ireland outring the bells of hell.


NOTE: Please listen here and offer corrections if you can. The 3rd and 4th lines of the first verse may need editing.

Bells of Ireland by Rosalie Sorrels