Thanks for all the contributions

Malcolm, thank you, you are an encyclopaedia in yourself. I went back to the Bodelian and found the older version (with the sadder ending, which I like even better), I transcribed it and it is pasted below.

Martin, I'll be at The Góilín on Friday and I'll ask Luke if he has the song.

Mick, thanks for your contribution. I'm wondering where I can get either a copy of the sheet music or a copy of a field recording.

Transcribed from Bodelian Library online catalogue
Printed by Carse of Glasgow (c1825)
Copy; Harding B 17(212a)

HIBERNIA'S LOVELY JANE.

Departing from fair Scotia's shore,
From the Highlands mossy banks,
To Germany I then set sail,
To join the hostile ranks,
At length in Ireland I arrived,
After a long Campaign;
Where a bonny maid my heart betrayed,
Hibernia's lovely Jane.

Her cheeks were of the rosy hue.
And the bright glance of her een,
Sparkled like pure drops of balmy dew,
That bespangled the meadows green.
Jane Cameron ne'er was half so fair,
Nor Jessie of Drumblane;
Nor Prosperine could e'er outshine,
Hibernia's lovely Jane.

Oft have I faced the daring foe,
When in the bloodstained field;
I oft have 'scaped death's fatal blow,
But now to love must yield.
Cupid's dart hath pierced my heart.
With love's tormenting pain,
Since first I saw that lassie braw,
Hibernia's lovely Jane.

My tartan plaid I will forsake,
My Commission I'll resign;
That very nymph my bride I'll make,
If the lassie would be mine.
In Hibernia's Isle, where graces smile,
For her I would remain;
In Hymen's band join heart and hand
With Hibernia's lovely Jane.

But the Bonnie Irish lassie fair,
She being of high degree.
Her parents say their daughter ne'er
A soldier's bride shall be
O'erwhelmed with grief, fear and despair
No hopes for me remain
It grieves my heart with you to part
Hibernia's lovely Jane.

Should Mars the trumpet sound again,
And call his sons to arms,
And Neptune waft me o'er the main,
Far from my Jenny's charms;
Should I be laid on honour's bed,
By a shot or scar be slain -
Death's pangs will cure the pain I endure
For Hibernia's lovely Jane.

You supreme deities, incline -
To tranquilise my breast
I'll wander to some distant clime
To obtain some peace and rest;
Thro woods and groves I mean to rove
Where none shall hear my strain
Since that nymph divine will not be mine
Farewell my lovely Jane.

Fergus