Oh my young life is past and it makes me feel dreary,
When in exile I'm cast on the wilds of a prairie,
I've to watch for the Redman, the panther and the beaver,
While my thoughts wander back to the Bogs of Shanaheever.
From the shores of Lough Conagh to the Plains of Kilbricken,
By the light of the moon my poor heart it was stricken
I'd have made for Leitir Dean, but the boys they would not favour,
So we made o'er the hills to the Bogs Of Shanaheever.
Oh Andy and Don in my absence make ready
By the light of the moon go and call Master Freddy
And tell him to prepare and to be mighty clever,
This is our last day coursing on the Bogs of Shanaheever.
Oh the course it was rough but Bruce was long-winded
And fierce every stride sure the hunting it was splendid
And the two year old dogs they were lanky keen and clever,
But the next thing I saw was a death in Shanaheever.
Oh the day that Victor died, my coursing days were over,
And I lay down and cried like a broken-hearted lover.
I laid Victor in his grave and I laid him down forever,
Paid my passage to New York from the Bogs of Shanaheever.
Oh Ireland my love I will think of you forever
For there's no place on earth I love with such favour.
And when the time is right I'll return once more to see her,
Then I'll bid adieu forever to the Bogs of Shanaheever.
