The Bantry Girl's Lament

Oh who will plough the fields now
and who will sow the corn?
and who will wash the sheep now
and have them nicely shorn?
The stack that's in the haggard,
unthreshed it may remain
Now that Johnny's gone a-thrashing
the Dirty King of Spain

The girls from the bawnogue
in sorrow may retire
And the piper with his bellows
may go home and blow the fire
For Johnny, lovely Johnny
is sailing o'er the main
Along with the other patriots
for to fight the King of Spain

The boys will surely miss him
when Moneymore comes round
And weep that their bold captain
is nowhere to be found
And the peelers must stand idle,
against their will and grain
Since the gallant boy who gave them work now fields the King of Spain

At wakes and hurling matches
your like we'll never see
Till you come back again to us again
a stóirín geal mo chroí
Then wont you thrash the buckeens
that show us such disdain
Because our eyes are not so bright
as those you'll see in Spain

If cruel fate should not allow
our Johnny to return
His heavy loss we Bantry girls
will never cease to mourn
We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot
and live in grief and pain
Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride
in the foreign land of Spain