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There's a dear spot in Ireland, it's a spot of great fame,
It's a dear little spot, unto you I'll tell its name;
In the land of Ireland surrounded by Irish soil,
They call it Londonderry on the banks of the Foyle.
When I was but young my parents had died,
I took strange notion the salt seas for to ride,
For to view distant countries and to tread on foreign soil,
Far away from Londonderry on the banks of the Foyle.
When I courted a lassie at the age of sixteen,
She was the handsomest lassie my eyes had ever seen;
Her cheeks were like the roses of a heart so pure and royal,
She was the pride of Londonderry on the banks of the Foyle.
I'll go to old Ireland and it's married I'll be,
I will leave ye shipmates, I will resign the sea;
I'll wed with my Mary and it's hard for her I'll toil,
We will live in Londonderry on the banks of the Foyle.
And now to conclude and to finish my song,
I hope I haven't offended you or said anything that's wrong;
And if ever you'll come to Ireland to view our native isle,
You will like sweet Londonderry on the banks of the Foyle.
Sung by Jack Knight [b.1873] of Pouch Cove, NL, and published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
