It is early next morning, our ship will be sailing,
Which takes me away, from those I love best.
I was forced for to leave the cot I was born in
The garden of Eden the fairest on earth.
Chorous
Fare-well to Donohill
Adieu to Alleen
Where it is often times I danced, with my dark eyed colleen.
My heart is now broken with sorrow and pain
Fare-well to the home I may ne're see again.
II
It is not my wishes to part from old Erin
Or the dear little cot at the foot of the hill
It was my ambition that tore me asunder
But the love of my country is dear to me still.
III
They say there's a hermit across the Atlantic
Where me and my true-love its happy will be
Where the stars and the stripes do welcome the stranger,
Oh if Ireland were like you, great, glorious, and free.
(Peter Walsh), Grange, Donohill
By Patrick Navin, Donohill