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Spancil Hill (Trad.)

Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on ramblin' to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board of vision and I followed with the wind
Till next I came to anchor at the cross in Spancil Hill

It's been on the twenty-third of June the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters in crowds assembled there
The young the old the brave and the bold came their duty to fulfil
At the Parish church in Cludy a mile from Spancil Hill.

I went to see my neighbours to see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone and the young ones turning grey
There I met the tailor Quiggly he's as bold as ever still
He used to make my breeches when I lived in Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's as white as any lilly and gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me saying: "Johnny I love you still!"
Oh, she's Ned the farmers daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill.

I dreamed I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
"Ah, Johnny you're only joking as many's the time before!"
Then the cock he crew in the morning he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California many miles from Spancil Hill.