As I rode out to view the flowers
Being in the morning early
pretty fair maid I chanced to spy
Her flowers, they grew most neatly
Her cherry cheeks, [bad word] lips
Her eyes would tickle a daisy
I took this fair maid by the hand
She said, "Young man, go easy"  
   
I'm a plowboy, my seeds to grow
And that's well known to my neighbors
And many's a field I've plowed indeed
And that's without much labor
I'll plow, I'll sow, I'll reep, I'll mow
I'll gather it into the barn
I'll play a reel and I'll dance with you
On the banks of Carraige Báine

B'fhearr liom fhéin ná Éire mhór
'S ná saibhreas Rí na Spáinne
Mise 'gus tusa a Chúilfhionn óig
Seal ag ól ár shláinte
Mé's tú bheith pósta araon
Gan chead tola athair is máthair
'S a mhaighdean óig is milse póig
Ar [bad word] na Carraige Báine

I'll spread my mantle for you, young man
If it weren't the breadth of a farthing
If I thought your mind was as good as your word
You know 'tis you I would rather
For want of [bad word] 
You need not go no further
But rise me up to the top of the hill
And show me the Carraige Báine