| Last night as | |
| I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by, | |
| Me mind been bent on rambling, to | |
| Ireland I did fly, | |
| I stepped on board a vision and followed with a will | |
| Till next | |
| I came to anchor at the cross near | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| Delighted by the novelty, enchanted with the scene, | |
| Where in me early boyhood - often | |
| I had been, | |
| I thought | |
| I heard a murmur and | |
| I think I hear it still | |
| It's the little stream of water that flows down | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| To amuse a passing fancy | |
| I lay down on the ground, | |
| And all my school companions they shortly gathered round | |
| When we were home returning we danced with bright goodwill, | |
| To Martin | |
| Moynahan's music at the cross at | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| It was on the 24th of | |
| June, the day before the fair | |
| When Ireland's sons and daughters and all assembled there, | |
| The young, the old, the brave, the bold came their duty to fulfil, | |
| At the little church in | |
| Clooney, a mile from | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| I went to see my neighbours to see what they might say, | |
| The old ones they were dead and gone, the young ones turning grey, | |
| I met the tailor | |
| Quigley, he was bold as ever still, sure he used to make my britches when | |
| I lived at | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| I paid a flying visit to me first and only love, | |
| She's as fair as any lilly and gentle as a dove, | |
| She threw her arms around me crying "Johnny I love you still", | |
| She was a farmer's daughter, the pride of | |
| Spancill Hill. | |
| Well I dreamt | |
| I hugged and kissed her as in the days of yore | |
| She said "Johnny you're only joking" as many the times before, | |
| The cock crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill | |
| And I awoke in | |
| California, many miles from | |
| Spancill Hill. |
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