One morning in the month of June, when Sol's bright beams the air illum'ed
My cattle from my yard I drove, and then I stretched my ease
The skylark sang melodiously, a fair young maid appeared to me
Down by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore
When first I saw this fair young maid, my heart began to palpitate
My eyes began to dazzle and her figure I could not state
She was loaded with some balls of thread, the same she had upon her head
Passing through the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore

When I saw this maid approaching me, my heart rose to a height of glee
I stood with great alacrity to accost this charming maid
Kind sir, she says, I’ve gone astray, won't you please to show the way
That leads to the weaver’s house in sweet Lisbweemore
There is no other human being in showing the way can surpass me
I’ve known it since my infancy, so come along, a stóir
But if you’ll agree to stay with me, I always be your grá mo chroí
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore

She soon replied, Indeed I won't, you are a dirty, scheming rogue
Please desist from flattery with a simple, honest maid
But if you're inclined to show the way, then come along, let’s not delay
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore
What she said I did excuse, her offer I could not refuse
And we walked along together and it's to me she did say
Where is this man they call DD, his residence I'd like to see
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore

Now come along you pretty maid, don't be the least of me afraid
I'll guide you through this rough place where you never have been before
And your guardian I will surely be, ere that young man's face we see
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore
Oh, the truth to you I now will state, I do not wish to see his face
And the reason I will tell to you so early in the day
If he saw the two of us alone, a song for us he might compose
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore

For to do his best, what can I say, are we not honest going away?
Besides, he has a habit, miss, never to dispraise
And if another man were in my shoes he'd spoil your thread, both warp and woof
Here by the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore

Now, when this I said, without delay, upon my word, she ran away
In vain I followed after her through thick and steep terrain
No roe-buck in the park so quick could leap each handicap and ditch
As she did through the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore
For alas she was too quick for me, though I ran with great rapidity
By dint of speed I stumbled and was topsy-turvy thrown
Once on the ground my foot I lay, oh, she was half a mile away
At least from the turbary in sweet Lisbweemore