Of all the comrades that I had, there's none that's left to boast.
And I'm left alone in my misery now, like some poor wandering ghost.
And as I roave from town to town, they call me the rambling sign,
The people all say, "there goes Tom Moore, from the days of fourty nine".

In the days of old, in the days of gold, how often I repine,...
For the days of old, when we dug up the gold, in the days of fourty nine....