Bonny, bonny was my seat in yon red rosy yard And bonny was my portion in the town of Ballynagard Shade and shelter was for me till I began to fail You all may guess now my distress lies near the Nightingale
Grief and woe that I must go to fight for England's King I neither know his friend nor foe, and war's a cruel thing The Nightingale is near at hand, my time at home is brief And Carey's streams and mountain land I part with bitter grief
No more I'll walk the golden hills with Nancy by my side Or dream along the sun-bright rills, or view my land with pride We sail away at dawn of day, the sails are ready set When old Benmore I see no more, I'll sigh with deep regret
Now all must change and I must range across the ocean wide Our ship she may in Biscay's Bay lie low beneath the tide If I should fall by cannon ball, or sink beneath the sea Good people all, a tear let fall and mourn for mine and me
If God should spare my graying hair and bring me back again I'd love far more my Antrim shore, its dark blue hills and rain Around its fires, my heart's desires, heaven grant till life shall fail And keep me far from cruel war and from the Nightingale.