When I was young and in my prime at the age of twenty-four,
I left Lough Erne's lovely banks. To England I sailed o'er.
'Twas there I spied a maiden fair of honour and renown,
Twas of her I did ask the way to famous London town.
"Young man are you a stranger? Were you never here before?
Come tell to me from where you came onto this country o'er."
I said, "I am an Irish lad that lately has sailed o'er ,
And they call me Willie Rambler from sweet Lough Erne's shore."
"If you be Willie Rambler," this charming maid did say,
"What would you take if you'd consent and with me come away?
Five hundred pounds a year I take, I'll give you that and more,
And I'll crown you Willie Rambler from sweet Lough Erne's shore."
Were you ever on Lough Erne's banks on a pleasant summer's day,
When the blackbird and thrush in every bush they charm their notes so gay;
And the fame of Ballyshannon town by far aye it exceeds them all,
In June, July or August when the salmon it leaps the fall?
From green Clyhore to Ailey Lodge that spot of high renown,
Where the small birds sing out their chorus around you lovely Castletown
