Spancil Hill

One night as I lay dreaming
Of pleasant days gone by
My mind was bent on rambling
To Ireland I did fly
I stepped on a vision and
I followed with the wind
When at last I came to anchor
At the cross of Spancill Hill

Then on the 23rd of June
The day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters
And friends aembled there
The young, the old
The brave and the bold came
Their duty to fulfill
At the Parish Church in Clooney
A mile from Spancill Hill

I went to see my neighbours
To hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone
And the young ones turning grey
I met the tailor Quigley
He's as bold as ever still
Sure he used to make my britches
When I lived in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit to
My first and only love
She's as fair as any lily
And gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around
Me, saying "Johnny, i love you still"
Ah she's Ned, the farmer's daughter
The pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I held and kissed her
As in the days of yore
"Oh Johnny you're only joking
As many's the time before"
The c he crew in the morning
He crew both loud and shrill
When I woke in California
Many miles from Spancil Hill