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