It bing in spring,
and the small birds were singing
Down by on shady harbour
a callous laden stream,
Where the thrushes were warbling,
the violets were charming,
to view fond lovers talking
while I didn't lay.
She said, my dear,
don't leave me for another season.
Though fortune may be pleasing,
I'll go along with you.
I'll forsake friends and relations
and quit this Irish nation.
And to the bunny band bangs,
forever I'll bend at you.
He said, my dear,
don't grieve me
or yet deny my patience.
You know I love you dear little more.
I'm going away.
I'm going to a foreign nation
to pur chase a plantation
to comfort us hereafter
all in America.
Then after a short while,
if fortune does be pleasing,
It will cause them far to smile
at our late going away.
We'll be happy as Queen Victoria,
all in her greatest glory.
We'll be drinking wine and porter,
all in America.
The landlords and the regents,
the bailiffs and their beagles.
The land of our forefathers
we're forced for to give over.
Now we're sailing on the ocean
for honour and promotion
And patting with our sweet hearts
to them we do adore
If you were in your bed lying
And thinking on dy ing
One sight of the bonnie band
Bangs your sorrow you'd give o 'er
Or if you were one hour
Down in yon shady bower
Pleasure would surround you,
you'd think on death and more.
So fare you well, sweet Craigie Hill,
where often times I have rovined.
I never thought my childhood days
I'd part you any more.
Now we're sailing on the ocean
for hon our and promotion
And the bonnie boats
are sailing way down by Durham shore