Last night as I lay dreaming
Of pleasant days gone by
My mind bein' bent on ramblin'
To Ireland I did fly
I stepped aboard a vision,
And followed with my will
Till next I came to anchor
At the Cross near Spancil Hill.
2. 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 I think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
That flows down by Spancil Hill.
3. It being 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 bold,
They came for sport and kill
There were jovial conversations
At the Cross of Spancil Hill.
| 4. I went to see my neighbors,
To hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone,
The young ones 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.
5. 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,
Sayin' "Johnny I love you still!"
She's Nell, the farmer's daughter,
And the pride of Spancil Hill.
6. I dreamt I stopped and kissed her
As in the days of yore
She said "Johnny, you're only joking,
As many times before."
The cock crew in the morning,
He crew both loud and shrill
And I woke in California,
Many miles from Spancil Hill.
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