Spancil Hill

Last night as I lay dreamin'

Of pleasant days gone by

Me mind bein' bent on travelin'

To Ireland I did fly

I stepped aboard a vision

and followed with my will

'Til next I came to anchor

At the cross near Spancil Hill

Delighted by the novelty

Enchanted with the scene

Where in my early boyhood

Where often I had been

I thought I heard a murmur

And think I hear it still

It's the little stream of water

That flows down Spancil Hill

It being the 23rd of June

The day before the fair

Where Ireland's sons and daughters

In crowds assembled there

The young, the old, the brave and the bold

They came for sport and kill

There were jovial conversations

At the cross near Spancil Hill

I went to see my neighbours

To hear what they might say

The old ones were all dead and gone

The others turning grey

I met with 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 white as any lily

And gentle as a dove

She threw her arms around me

Saying Johnny I love you still

She's Meg the farmers daughter

And the pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I stooped and kissed her

As in the day of 'ore

She said Johnny you're only joking

As many the times before

The cock crew in the morn'

He crew both loud and shrill

And I woke in California

Many miles from Spancil Hill