I had a cow, my drimmin dhu, when Pat and I were joined together,
And I may say without delay that she was scarcely ever off the tether,
Oh, wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu, your glossy coat all did admire,
My shining sloe, your like I know was never seen in shed or byre.

'Twas just about last Hollantide that Pat he rose one early morn,
And wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu he sold and purchased a shorthorn,
Oh, wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu! The spreading horns that were your pride,
My little pet I'm weeping yet that you are taken from my side.

Well, when the Shorthorn calved in May corn and cake she got her skinfull,
But may I never see the day if she'd give more than half a tinfull!
Oh wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu, you wasted neither cake nor corn,
With a wisp of hay three times a day you'd fill the can both night and morn.

I wipe the salt tears from my brow, I feel my cheeks with hot shame burning,
When the neighbors say to me each day, "Oh, Kitty is there no more churning?"
Oh wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu, grief chokes me and I cannot utter!
On a wisp of hay three times a day 'tis you would give galore of butter!

Then Pat, says he: "Sure gradh mo(?) chroidhe, her pedigree has dukes in dozens,
The Royal Dane and Lady Jane, and the Sultan too are all first cousins!
Oh wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu, such nonsense put me past my patience,
For my darling cow I miss you now although you had not grand relations.

My curse attend them night and day and may their grief be black as mine is,
Who first brought o'er to Erin's shore those Shorthorn cows and Cochin Chinas!
Oh, wirrasthrue, my drimmin dhu, from Shannon's lovely banks I brought her,
A sight to view her form so true and her eyes as placid as it's water.