It was early on a bright harvest morning
I strayed by the banks of Sullane
To gaze on the beauties of nature
that grace every woodland and lawn
The prospect was surely enchanting
As gay lassies in juvenile bloom
Promenaded by the banks of that river
That flows near the town of Macroom

I being airy and fond of recreation
To the river-side I ventured to rove
‘Til weary of my ramblings and rovings
I sat myself down by a grove
I sat there some time meditating
‘Til the sun her bright rays had withdrawn
And a damsel of queenly appearance
Came down by the banks of Sullane.

I arose with great joy and emotion
And accosted this vision so fair
Who appeared unto me like a Venus
Adorned with jewels most rare
Were I ruler of France or of Prussia
Sure ‘tis with me you’d soon wear the crown
And I’d join you in wedlock my darling
You’re the beauty of sweet Massey Town.

We walked and we talked on together
Inhaling the bright pleasant air
Until, in a voice unaffected
She said, “See, my father lives there”
His presence to me was appalling
With his cross angry looks and his frown
That pierced through my heart like an arrow
On my way down to sweet Massey Town.

But now I’m retired from my rovings
With a heart full of sorrow and grief
There is no one on earth to console me
Or to give me a moment’s relief
I will rove through the African desert
Until death summons me to my tomb
For the sake of that charming fair Helen
That I met near the town of Macroon.