Farewell to old Ireland, the land of my childhood   Which now and forever I am going to leave   Farewell to the shores where the shamrock is growing   It's the bright spot of beauty and the home of the brave      I think on its valleys with fond admiration   Though never again its bright hills will I see   I'm bind for to cross the wide swelling ocean   In search of fame and fortune and of sweet liberty      Our ship at the present lies in Derry harbor   To bear us away across the wide swelling sea   May heaven be her companion and grant her fair breezes   Till we reach the green fields of America      It's hard to be forced from the land that we live in   Our houses and farms, all obliged for to sell   To wander along among Indians and strangers   To find some sweet spot where our children might dwell      Our artists, our farmers, our tradesmen are leaving   To seek for employment far over the sea   Where they'll get their riches with care and with industry   There's nothing but hardship at home if you stay      Let's cheer up your spirits, you lads and you lasses   There's gold for the digging and lots of it too   A health to the heart that has courage to ramble   Bad luck to the lad or the lass that would rue      We'll call for a bumper of ale, wine and brandy   We'll drink to the health of those far away   Our hearts will all warm at the thought of old Ireland   When we're in the green fields of America