This version, found on the web, is pretty well as I know it:

BANTRY GIRL'S LAMENT

Oh who will plough the fields now,
And who will sow the corn,
And who will watch the sheep now,
And keep them neatly shorn.
And the stack that's in the haggard,
Unthreshed it may remain,
Since Johnny, lovely Johnny,
Went to fight the king of Spain.

Oh the girls from the Banóg,
In sorrow may retire,
And the piper and his bellows,
May go home and blow the fire,
Since Johnny, lovely Johnny,
Went sailing o'er the main,
Along with other patriots,
To fight the king of Spain.

The boys will sorely miss him,
When Moneymore comes round,
And grieve that their bould captain,
Is nowhere to be found.
And the peelers must stand idle,
Against their will and grain,
Since the valiant boy who gave them work,
Now peels the king of Spain.

At wakes and hurling matches,
Your likes we'll never see,
'Till you come back again to us,
Mo storeen óg mo chroi.
And won't you trounce the buckeens,
Who show us much disdain,
Because our eyes are not as bright,
As those you meet in Spain.

Oh if cruel fate should not permit,
Our Johnny to return,
His awful loss we Bantry girls,
Will never cease to mourn.
We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot,
And die in grief and pain,
Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride,
In the sunny land of Spain.

Regards