Spancill Hill - Cruachan

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 me 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