Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and followed with the will
Till next I came to anchor at the cross near Spancill Hill

'Twas on the 23rd of June, the day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters and friends assembled there
The young, the old, the brave, the bold came their duty to fill
At the parish church at Clooney just a mile from Spancill Hill

I went to see my neighbors to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone the young one's turning grey
I met the tailor Quigley, he's bold as ever still
Sure he used to mend my breeches when I lived at Spancill Hill

I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's fair as any lily and gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me saying "Johnny I love you still"
She was Meg, the farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancill Hill
She was Meg, the farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancill Hill