Oh then fare thee well, sweet Donegal,

the roses and guidore.

I'm flying across the ocean,

Where the stormy billows flow.

It breaks my heart, for you to part,

Where we spent many a happy day.

Fare thee well to kind relations--

I'm bound for Amerikay.

Oh now Mary, you're my heart's delight,

My pride and my only care.

It was your cruel father

would not let me stay there.

But, absence makes the heart grow fond

And when I'm away o'er the main,

May the Lord protect my darling girl,

Until I return again.

And I wish I was in sweet Dunloe,

And seated on the grass.

And by my side a bottle of wine,

And on my knee, my lass.

I'd call for liquor of the best.

And I'd pay before I'd go.

Then I'd hold my Mary in my Arms,

In the town of sweet Dunloe.