I'm bidding farewell to the land of my youth
And the home I love so well
And the mountains grand of my own native land
I'm bidding them all farewell
With an aching heart I'll bid them adieu
For tomorrow we'll sail far away
O'er the raging foam, to seek a home
On the shores of Americae

It's not for the want of employment I'm going
It's not for to seek some fame
That fortunes bright may shine over me
And give me a glorious name
It's not for the want of employment I'm going
O'er the dreary and stormy sea
But to seek a home for my own true love
On the shores of Americae

And when I am bidding my last farewell
The tears like rain will fall
To think of my friends in my own native land
And the home in old Ireland so smal
But if I'm to die on a far foreign shore
And be buried so far, far away
No fond mother's tears will be shed o'er my grave
On the shores of Americae