Spancil Hill

Being 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 duties to fulfil
At the parish church near Clooney
A mile from Spancil Hill

I went to see my neighbors
To see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone
The young ones turning grey
I met with the taylor Quigley
He's as bold as ever still
Oh he used to make me britches
When I lived in Spancil Hill

I payed a flying visit
To my first and only love
She's as white as any lily
As gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me
Saying "Johnny, I love you still"
Oh she's yet the farmer's daughter
And the pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I knelt and kissed her
As in the days of yore
"Oh Johnny, you're only joking
As many's the time before"
When the cock he crew in the morning
Though he crew both loud and shrill
It's when I woke in California
Many miles from Spancil Hill

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