When I was young and in my prime at the age of twenty-four,
I left Lough Erne's lovely banks. To England I sailed o'er.
'Twas there I met a maiden fair of honour and renown,
And of her I did ask the way to famous London town.
"Young man are you a stanger? Were you never here before?
Come tell to me from where you came onto this country o'er."
I said, "I am an Irish lad that lately has sailed o'er ,
And they call me Willie Rambler from sweet Lough Erne's shore."
"If you be Willie Rambler," this charming maid did say,
"What would you take for to consent and with me come away?
Fifteen hundred pounds a year, I'll give you this and more,
And I'll crown you Willie Rambler from sweet Lough Erne's shore."
Were you ever on Lough Erne's banks on a lovely summer's day,
Where the blackbird and thrush in every bush they sing their notes so gay;
And the fame of Ballyshannon town by far exceeds them all,
In June July and august when the salmon it leaps the fall?
From green Clyhore to Ailey Lodge that spot of high renown,
Where the wee birds sing out their chorus around you lovely Castletown