Oh, then fare ye well, sweet Donegal, the Rosses and Gweedore
I'm crossing the main ocean, where the foaming billows roar
It breaks my heart from you to part, where I spent many happy days
Farewell to kind relations, for I'm bound for Amerikay

[Oh, my love is tall and handsome and her age is scarce eighteen
She far exceeds all other fair maids when she trips over the green
Her lovely neck and shoulders are fairer than the snow
Till the day I die I'll ne'er deny my Mary from Dungloe]

[If I was at home in sweet Dungloe a letter I would write
Kind thoughts would fill my bosom for Mary my delight
'Tis in her father's garden, the fairest violets grow
And t'was there I came to court the maid, my Mary from Dungloe]

Ah then, Mary, you're my heart's delight my pride and only care
It was your cruel father would not let me stay there
But absence makes the heart grow fond and when I'm o'er the main
May the Lord protect my darling girl 'til I return again

And I wish I was in sweet Dungloe and seated on the grass
And by my side a bottle of wine and on my knee a lass.
I'd call for liquor of the best and I'd pay before I would go
And I'd roll my Mary in my arms in the town of sweet Dungloe.