The Nightingale

Oh woeful was the day when I was pressed to sail afar

And leave behind the girl I loved in the town of Ballinagard

The shady groves were my delight till I was forced to sail

You all may guess at my distress lying in the Nightingale

Grief and woe that I must go and fight for England’s King

I do not know his friends or foe and war’s a cruel thing

The Nightingale lies near at hand, my time alas is brief

From pearling streams and mountain rills I part with bitter grief

No more I’ll walk the golden hills with Nancy by my side

Or stroll along the sun-bright rills or view my land with pride

We sail away at dawn of day. Our sails are ready set.

When Old Ireland’s shore I see no more, I will sigh with deep regret

Now all is changed and I must range across the ocean wide

Our ship she may in Biscay Bay be sunk beneath the tide

If I should fall by a cannonball or sink beneath the sea

Good people all, a tear let fall and mourn for mine and me

But if God should spare my graying hair and bring me back again

I will love far more my Antrim shore, it’s dark blue hills and glens

Around my fire but one desire God grant till life shall fail

To keep me far from cruel war and from the Nightingale

To keep me far from cruel war and from the Nightingale