back to songbook | text-only lyrics to this song Dm C Dm F C Dm F C Dm C Dm 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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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