Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and the shamrock   Farewell to the girls of old Ireland all 'round   And may their hearts be as merry as ever they could wish for   As far away o'er the ocean I'm bound      My father is old and my mother's right feeble   To leave their own country, it would grieve their heart sore   Oh, the tears down their cheeks, in great floods they are rolling   To think that I must die upon some far and foreign shore      But what matter to me, where my bones they may lie buried   If in peace and contentment I can spend my life   The green fields of Amerikay, they daily are calling   It's there I'll find an end to my misery and strife      So pack up your sea stores now, consider it no longer   Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay   With no taxes or tithe there to devour up your wages   Across on the green fields of Amerikay      The lint dams are gone and the looms are lying idle   Gone are the winders of baskets and creels   And away o'er the ocean, go journeyman cowboys   And fiddlers who play out the old mountain reels      Ah, but I mind the time when old Ireland was flourishing   And most of her tradesmen did work for good pay   Ah, but since our manufacturers have crossed the Atlantic   Well, it's now that I must follow onto Amerikay      And now to conclude and to finish my ditty   If e'er a friendless Irishman should happen my way   With the best in the house, I will greet him and welcome him   At home on the green fields of Amerikay      So pack up your sea stores now, consider it no longer   Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay   With no taxes or tithe there to devour up your wages   Across on the green fields of Amerikay