I've wandered many a weary mile
Across the ocean foam.
And although my future may be spent
Far from my native home
No matter where I chance to stay,
Or where my footsteps go,
I'll fondly think both night and day,
Of sweet smiling Carnadoe.
In Summertime, o'es meadows green,
The lark sings loud and shrill
The cuckoo and the Corncrake,
The thrush and whipperwill.
The feathery songsters of the grove
do there fly to and fro
Among the shades and shining glases
of smiling Carnadoe.
(continues on next page)