The County Mayo

On Patrick Lynch's sailing ship, a-grieving as we go,
I pass the night in wailing and all the day in woe;
Were't not my senses dying
Far from my country flying,
In truth, 'tis I Would cry you well, my County Mayo!

While yet my friends were living there, I store of gold could show,
Feasts to fair maids giving there, the Spanish wine did flow;
Were Fortune not behind me,
With cruel law to bind me,
Not Santa Cruz would find me the grave where I must go-

The Plunderers are risen now, and making a fine show,
With bows and bags bedizened, and buckles at the toe;
Were I but back to-morrow
Across the ocean's furrow,
I'd make these gentry sorrow, if God would leave it so.

Were Patrick Lochlan, Irul's Earl, triumphant o'er the foe,
And Colonel Hugh MacGrady, still Lord as long ago,
And Brian Dhuv, upstanding,
O'er Duachmor commanding —
By heaven! 'tis I'd be landing in the County Mayo.