O, bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree
For it stood on your shore, for many’s the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away
All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, «Where will we shelter or where will we sleep?»
For it stood on your shore, for many’s the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away
All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, «Where will we shelter or where will we sleep?»