In blackberry time herself and me
We do be up by the break of day,
An' "God go with us now" says she,
"The time we're thrav'llin' on our way,
An' God go with us all the while
We're thrav'llin'on from mile to mile."

'Tis up Glencullen way we are;
The berries there are fine and sweet,
But kilt you'd be, it is so far,
When you go thrav'llin'on your feet.
Och, weary miles ere you'd come down
From far Glencullen to the town.

Up there at dawn 'tis quare and still
And dew lies heavy on the ground,
But berries for a basket's fill
Grows on the bushes all around.
And whiles we'll rest and eat a few
That's sodden with the heavy dew.

We traipis round from door to door;
'Tis weary in the noonday heat.
(May God have mercy on the poor
That thravels round upon their feet!)
For sure you're moidhered in the town,
The way the carts go up and down.

But when we're quit of all our load,
"Now God be praised for that," says she;
And back we go the homeward road,
Near bet we are, herself and me.
Och! Sure the thought of home is sweet
To thim that thravels on their feet.