Attention pay, my countrymen, and hear my native news
Although my song is sorrowful, I hope you'll me excuse
I left my native residence, a foreign land to see
And I bid farewell to Donegal, likewise to Glenswilly

’Twas on a summer's morning, by the dawning of the day
I left my peaceful, happy home to wander far away
And as I viewed that grand old glen, perhaps no more to see
I thought my poor old heart would break, when leaving Glenswilly

Brave stalwart men around me stood, my comrades kind and true
And as I grasped each well-known hand to bid a last adieu
I said, "My gallant countrymen, I hope you'll soon be free"
To see the sunburst proudly wave o’er the hills of Glenswilly

No more among the sycamore I'll hear the blackbird sing
No more I'll hear the blithe cuckoo who welcomes back the spring
No more I'll plough your fertile fields, a chuisle geal mo chroí
On foreign soil I'm doomed to toil, far, far from Glenswilly

God bless you, dark old Donegal, my own dear native land
In dreams I see your heather glens and towering mountains grand
Alas, three thousand miles do lie between your hills and me
A poor, forlorn exile cast far, far from Glenswilly