OK: Here's a summary of the situation on the three versions.
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This song exists in three basic versions. Within each version, traditional singers often make slight adjustments to the words, as usual. The sets given below are at least close to the recorded sources mentioned.
Version 1
This version was effectively preserved by Robbie McMahon of Spancilhill, who sings the definitive version.
Last night as I lay dreaming, of the pleasant days gone by,
My mind being bent on rambling and to Erin's Isle I did fly.
I stepped on board a vision and sailed out with a will,
'Till I quickly came to anchor at the Cross of Spancilhill.
Enchanted by the novelty, delighted with the scenes,
Where in my early childhood, I often times have been.
I thought I heard a murmur, I think I hear it still,
'Tis that little stream of water at the Cross of Spancilhill.
And to amuse my fancy, I lay upon the ground,
Where all my school companions, in crowds assembled 'round.
Some have grown to manhood, while more their graves did fill,
Oh I thought we were all young again, at the Cross of Spancilhill.
It being on a Sabbath morning, I thought I heard a bell,
O'er hills and valleys sounded, in notes that seemed to tell,
That Father Dan was coming, his duty to fulfill,
At the parish church of Clooney, just one mile from Spancilhill.
And when the sermon ended, we all knelt down in prayer,
In hopes for to be ready, to climb the Golden Stair.
And when back home returning, we danced with right good will,
To Martin Moylan's music, at the Cross of Spancilhill.
It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair,
Sure Erin's sons and daughters, they all assembled there.
The young, the old, the stout and the bold, they came to sport and kill,
What a curious combination, at the Fair of Spancilhill.
I went into my old home, as every stone can tell,
The old boreen was just the same, and the apple tree over the well,
I miss my sister Ellen, my brothers Pat and Bill,
Sure I only met strange faces at my home in Spancilhill.
I called to see my neighbours, to hear what they might say,
The old were getting feeble, and the young ones turning grey.
I met with tailor Quigley, he's as brave as ever still,
Sure he used to mend my breeches when I lived in Spancilhill.
I paid a flying visit, to my first and only love,
She's as pure as any lily, and as gentle as a dove.
She threw her arms around me, saying Mike I love you still,
She is Mack the Ranger's daughter, the Pride of Spancilhill.
I thought I stooped to kiss her, as I did in days of yore,
Says she Mike you're only joking, as you often were before,
The cock flew on the roost again, he crew both loud and shrill,
And I awoke in California, far far from Spancilhill.
But when my vision faded, the tears came in my eyes,
In hopes to see that dear old spot, some day before I die.
May the Joyous King of Angels, His Choicest Blessings spill,
On that Glorious spot of Nature, the Cross of Spancilhill.
Version 2
This five verse version became extremely popular in Ireland in the 1960's thanks to recordings by Dermot O'Brien, Paddy Reilly and the Dubliners. According to Robbie McMahon (see version 1), it was well known long before this period. It has become something of an anthem – any Irish person above a certain age seems to be able to sing it through, without ever having consciously learned it.
The third and fourth line of the second verse can vary somewhat.
Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and I followed with a will
And I shortly came to anchor at the cross of Spancil Hill
It being the 23rd of June the day before the fair
When lreland's sons and daughters in crowds assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold their duty to fulfill
There were jovial conversations at the fair of Spancil Hill
I went to see my neighbours to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young one's turning grey
I met with the tailor Quigley, he's as bould as ever still
Sure he used to make my britches when I lived in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's as white as any lily and as gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me saying "Johnny I love you still
" Oh she's Ned the farmers daughter and the flower of Spancil HiII
I dreamt I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
She said, "Johnny you're only joking like many's the time before"
The cock he crew in the morning he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill.
Version 3
This seven verse version was recorded by Christy Moore on his seminal Prosperous < album in 1970. He attributes it to Robbie McMahon, whom he thought was the author. Essentially, he added Verse 2 and parts of Verse 3 and 5 from Robbie's Version 1, to Version 2 - and made some other minor changes.
This version is less commonly sung than Version 2.
SPANCIL HILL
Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and I followed with the wind
And I shortly came to anchor at the cross of Spancilhill
Delighted by the novelty, enchanted with the scene,
Where in my early childhood, I often times had been.
I thought I heard a murmur and I think I hear it still,
It's the little stream of water that flows down Spancilhill.
And to amuse my fancy, I lay down on the ground,
Where all my school companions, they shortly gathered 'round.
When we were home returning, we danced with right good willTo Martin Moylan's music at the cross of Spancilhill.
It being on the 23rd June the day before the fair
When lreland's sons and daughters in crowds assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold, they came to sport and kill
There were curious combinations at the fair of Spancilhill
I went to see my neighbours to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young one's turning grey
I met with the tailor Quigley, he's as bould as ever still
Sure he used to make my britches when I lived in Spancihill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's white as any lily and gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me saying "Johnny I love you still
She is Mack the Rangers daughter and the pride of Spancilhill
I dreamt I stooped and kissed her as in the days of yore
She said, "Johnny you're only joking as many's the time before"
The cock crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill.
Notes on the Tune:
All three versions share the same tune. Robbie, however, sings in a very staccato, squared off 2/4 time - compared to the smoother, ¾ time normally used for the other versions. Little seems to be known of the origin of the tune. I'm still looking!
Regards