One day in the Autumn season
It being in the year '54
When Sayers approching most charming
I took out my scythe to go mowing
My handle being fair and in motion
My Sand - board my hook and my stone
And my scythe so well and completed
As to me from the heavens was thrown
I straight took my way to Tipperary
Where the hay did spontaneously grow
I stopped there at Meeting Lane Corner
And put up my scythe for to show
When a Widow convenient to Bansha
Observing me standing alone
She immediately made her appearance
And said she had hay for to mow.