Come all ye gallant heroes a warning take from me
Never hire with any master till you know what your work will be
He will rise you in the morning before the break of dawn
I ‘m afraid you will never be able to plough the Rocks of Bawn.

Now rise up gallant Sweeney and give your horses hay
And give to them a feed of oats before you go away
Don’t feed them on soft turnips that grow on yonder lawn
Or for it you will surely rue to plough the Rocks of Bawn.

Now my sock are getting worn and my coulter is getting thin
My heart is always trembling, afraid I might give in
My heart is nearly broken from the clear daylight till dawn
I’m afraid I won’t be able to plough the Rocks of Bawn.

My curse upon ye Sweeney, you have me nearly robbed.
For you’re sitting by the fireside with your dudgeen in your gob
You’re sitting in the fireside from the clear daylight till dawn
I‘m afraid you won’t be able to plough the Rocks of Bawn.

Well Sweeney, gallant Sweeney for you I have great moan
For the wind and rain beats upon your face among the rocks and stones
The wind and rain beats on your face from the clear daylight till dawn
I ‘m afraid you won’t be able to plough the Rocks of Bawn

Oh I wish the Queen of England would send for me in time
And place me in some regiment in all my youth and prime
I’d fight for Ireland’s glory from the clear daylight till dawn
And I swear I ‘d never return again to plough the Rocks of Bawn.

Composer John Sweeney Glan Mullahoran Cavan born 1840s.
Sang by James Dunne Cloncovit born 1886.
Written down by Tommy Kiernan Granard husband of Rosanne Cooke Kiernan of Bawn Mullahoran (Great granddaughter of the master “The widow Bawn “)

“My heart is always trembling, afraid I might give in”
Sweeney was fearful he would suffer the same fate as the widow’s husband
Dying of heart trembles ploughing Bawn.