I’m a wanderer now from the land of my birth,
Far away from the seas I hold dearest on earth,
I’ve seen both the beauties and I love although,
Still, I think of Old Ireland wherever I go.

I think of old Ireland across the blue waves,
I think of old Ireland the land of the brave.
There’s the home of the brave where the wild shamrock show,
Oh I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

Yet, though far away from that dear blessed sun,
I still offer our prayers to my own country’s God.
To chase from her borders, the tyrant an’ woe.
Oh I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

Although oft have I drank out of Barraney’s well,
In whose clear waters there lurks a bright spell.
The afflicted go there to find ease for their woe,
Oh I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

And oft have I swam in the Blackwater’s tide,
Around the sweet wild woods around Castle Hyde.
For it’s through a wild woodland the Blackwater flow,
Oh I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

I think of old Ireland across the blue waves,
I think of old Ireland the land of the brave.
There’s the home of the brave where the wild shamrock grow,
Oh I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

“Written by J. H. Howard (no date), the only trace of this comes from Wright’s ‘Emigration Songs and Ballads’. This is the full version:

I Think of Old Ireland, wherever I Go. Written by J. H. Howard, Air—My Heart's in the Highlands.

I'm a wanderer now from the land of my birth,
Far away from the scenes I hold dearest on earth,
And I've seen both the beauties of the Nile and Arno,
Still I think of old Ireland, wherever I go.

Chorus
I think of old Ireland, across the blue wave,
I think of old Ireland, the land of the brave,
'Tis the home of the brave, where the wild shamrocks grow,
O, I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

And 'tis soon I'll be home, in the land I love best,
In my own dearest Emerald Isle of the West,
Though now I am chasing the wild buffalo,
For I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

Yet, though far away from that dear blessed sod,
I still offer up prayers to my country's God,
To chase from her borders the base Saxon foe,
For I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

Dear land of the Shamrock, and sweet swelling briar,
Dear scenes of my childhood which never could tire,
When a boy I picked beechnuts in wild Glenaboe,
O, I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

And how oft have I drank out of Barranane's well,
In whose clear waters there lurks a bright spell,
The afflicted go there to find ease for their woe,
For I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

And how oft have I swam in the Blackwater's tide,
And roamed the sweet wild woods round Castle Hyde,
For it's through its wild woodland the Blackwater's flow,
O, I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

And how oft have I sported through its pastures so green,
Where the wild fragrant daisy can always be seen,
For flowers in luxuriance there always do grow,
O, I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

But all my sad wanderings soon will be o'er,
And that isle of my heart I will never leave more,
Though deep is her sorrow, and bitter her woe,
O, I think of old Ireland wherever I go.

Reference:
Irish Emigration Songs and Ballads, Robert L Wright, Bowling Green Univ. Popular Press, 1975.”
Jim Carroll