Last night when 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 I followed with the wind Till first I came to anchor at the cross of Spancil Hill It was on 23rd of June the day before the fair When lreland's sons and daughters and friends assembled there The young and the old, The brave and the bold their duty to fulfill At the parish church in Clooney A mile from Spancil 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 with the talior Quigley, he's a brave as ever still Sure he used to make me britches when I lived in Spancil Hill I paid a flying visit to my first and own true love She's as white as any lily and as gentle as a dove She threw her arms around me saying "Johnny I love you still " Oh she's Ned the farmers daughter and the pride of Spancil HiII I dreamt I held and kissed her as in the days of yore She said, "Johnny you're only joking as in the times before" The cock he crew in the morning he crew both loud and shrill And I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill