Dónal Maguire, traditional Irish music. A great singer, banjo player, fiddle player and all-round musician.

dónal maguire


All things are quite silent, each mortal at rest
When me and my love lay snug in one nest
When a bold set of ruffians they entered our cave
And they forced my dear jewel to plough the salt wave

I begged hard for my sweetheart as though I begged for life
But they'd not listen to me although a fond wife
Saying: 'The king he needs sailors, to the seas he must go'
And they've left me lamenting in sorrow and woe

Through green fields and meadows we oftimes did walk
And sweet conversations of love we have talked
Where the birds in the bushes so sweetly did sing
And the lovely thrushes' voices made the valleys to ring

Although my love's gone I shall not be cast down
Who knows but my my true love might some day return
And will make me amends for all sorrow and strife
And my true love and I might live happy for life


Oh have you been to Avondale
Or lingered in her lovely vale?
Where tall trees whisper low the tale
Of Avondale's proud eagle

Where pride and ancient glory fade
This was the land where he was laid
Like Christ was thirty pieces paid
For Avondale's proud eagle

Oh have you been Avondale
Or lingered in her lovely vale?
Where tall trees whisper low the tale
Of Avondale's proud eagle

Long years that green and lovely vale
Had nursed Parnell, our grandest Gael
And cursed the land that has betrayed
Fair Avondale's proud eagle

Oh have you been to Avondale
Or lingered in her lovely vale?
Where tall trees whisper low the tale
Of Avondale's proud eagle


As I rode one morning all in the blooming Spring
I overheard a maiden fair most grievously did sing
Saying,'Cruel were my parents who me did so sore annoy
They wouldn't let me tarry with me bonny labouring boy

Oh Johnny was my true love's name as you may plainly see
My father he employed him as a labouring boy to be
To harrow reap and sow the seed and plough my father's land
And very soon we fell in love as you may understand

My mother said me one day'How can you stoop so low
To marry a poor labouring boy around the world to go
Some noble lord might fancy you great treasures you could enjoy
So do not throw your love away on a poor yung labouring boy

Oh mother dearest mother your talk is all in vain
For lords and knights and dukes and earls, their efforts I disdain
I'd rather live a single life, where time I would enjoy
Awaiting happy prospects with my bonny labouring boy'

Some fifteen pounds of my best clothes I sold that very night
And with the boy that I love best to Belfast we did fly
His love has so entangled me, the same I will ne'er deny
It's with my bonny labouring boy I mean to live and die

So fill your glasses to the brim and let the toast go round
And drink to every labouring boy that ploughs and sows the ground
It's when his work is over, it's home he'll come with joy
And happy is the girl who weds with the bonny labouring boy


Winter winds blow from the snow on the hills
The plains are hard, hoary, and dreary
The small birds in quest for food weary
The plover wants drink for there’s ice on the rills
Winter winds cold, sweep ‘oer the wold
And wild geese fly south and the sheep are in fold

Yon mansion, scarce seen through the sheltering trees
Has music, mirth, laughter and feasting
Yon cot on the moorland is stript by the breeze
It’s inmates with famine are wasting
Young and old shrink in the cold
And wild geese fly south and the sheep are in fold

The tapers are lighted, the curtains are drawn
The steeds chew at stalls in the stable
And watchdogs at sport on the frost on the lawn
Were fed with rich food from the table
North winds are cold bitterly cold
The wild geese take rest, the sheep are in fold

The lord of the mansion in comfort secure
With friends and with kindred before him
Talks loud in his wine of the cot on the moor
Have feelings of pity come o'er him?
Winter winds cold sweep ‘oer the wold
The wild geese take rest and the sheep are fold

He sinks in his down he awakes the next day
To the shriek of distress and wild wailing
His victims are dragged from their cabins of clay
The feeble the old and the ailing
Out in the cold, out in the cold
No shelter have they but the sheep are in fold


How hard is my fortune, how vain my repining?
The strong rope of fate for this young neck is twining
My strength is departed my cheeks sunk and sallow
While I languish chains in the gaol of Cluain Meala.

No boy in the village was ever yet milder
I’d play with the child and my sport be no wilder
I’d dance without tiring from morning ‘til evening
And my goal-ball I’d strike to the lightning of Heaven

At my bed-foot decaying my hurley is lying
Through the lads of the village my goal–ball is flying
My horse amongst the neighbours neglected may fallow
While I lie in chains in the gaol of Cluain Meala

Next Sunday the pattern at home will be keeping
All the young active hurlers the field will be sweeping
The dance of fair maidens the evening will hallow
While this heart once so gay shall be cold in Cluain Meala


A new song on his incarceration from the Banks of the Moy

One day as I went out strolling from Swinford to sweet Ballina
I met a fair maid on my rambles whose name it was Mary M'Grath
She sang on the wrongs of her own land and Davitt her true Irish boy
That's now in the prison of Portland, far from the sweet banks of the Moy

I kindly stepped up to this fair maid as she then did walk all alone
And asked her the cause of her misery and why she had left her own home
This maiden she kindly made answer, 'Young Davitt's my true Irish boy
He's now in the prison of Portland far from the green banks of the Moy'

'Fair maiden I know Michael Davitt, he came from the parish of Straide
In the year 67 my darling young Davitt was a green coated blade
A comrade this brave Michael Davitt, his country he'd never deny
He's now in the prison of Portland far from the sweet banks of the Moy'

Old Ireland does mourn this hero, her patriot loyal and true
For the cause of old Ireland stood daring the landlords he thought to subdue
He spoke on the rights of his own land, Michael Davitt her true Irish boy
That's now in the prison of Portland from the lovely sweet banks of the Moy

And now to conclude and finish I hope that the day will soon come
When the landlords and cruel-willed bailiffs from the land of St. Patrick must run
We'll unfold then our green and gold banner and spread it o'er Erin's green isle
In respect for the brave Michael Davitt from the lovely sweet banks of the Moy


A dhruimhfionn donn dílis the landlord has come
Iike a cold blast of death, he has swept o'er our home
He has withered the rooftree beneath the dark sky
And houseless and homeless this night must lie

For they racked and they plundered with tax and with rent
Till our souls they were seared and our lifeblood it was spent
And when they had finished out on the world
To the mocking of fiends from my home was I hurled

I knelt down three times to offer a prayer
But my soul was so seared that the words they were not there
So wild were the thoughts to my dizzy head came
Like the mocking of wind through a forest of flames

I bid you loyal comrade a long last farewell
For the gaunt hand of famine it has touched us all too well
It has severed the master from you my brown cow
With a mark on his soul and a brand on his brow


One eve as I strolled through the green leafy mountains
I sat down by a sweet running stream
Enraptured by nature and her sweet crystal fountains
I fell asleep and began for to dream
I dreamt Richmond prison’s dark dreary walls
Surrounded the chieftain of Erin’s green shore
And that Erin, loved Erin was weeping and wailing
For her Green Linnet, Michael Davitt a stór

They have taken my Linnet, the pride of the nation
And ensnared him in a cold dreary jail
That caused me to weep in sad lamentation
But I’m glad for he would not give bail
For being true to his poor oppressed country
They ensnared my Green Linnet, which makes my heart sore
Entrapped and deprived of the rights of his freedom
Was my darling Michael Davitt a stór

When my Green Linnet sang in Navan so sweetly
They waylaid him to steal his sweet strain
But he would not give bail and his great wings were broken
To keep him from soaring again
But the nine years the fowler engaged my stór
Had taught him to love dear old Ireland the more
And again through the smoke, my darling will soar
My Green Linnet, Michael Davitt a stór

Oh where is my Linnet that true son of Erin
Where’s my sweet bird that loved me so well?
Alas the bleak walls of a prison surround him
Uncheered, in a cold dreary cell
In splendour my Linnet will return from that jail
And Erin his country once more will him hail
From my dream I awoke to find Erin weeping
For her Green Linnet, Michael Davitt a stór


Adieu lovely Erin I'm bound to leave you
May peace be on your daisy-clad hills
In wild foreign lands I'm bound to praise you
And I'll sing of your sweet winding rills

My parents for my welfare they did their endeavour
As parents they would do for any son
They bound me in me early days to be an engraver
But alas by that art I'm undone

I set the plates for forging notes and that I'll ne'er deny
Drawn on the Bank of Scotland and that company I defied
They traced me all to Belfast all through a hired spy
Which parted me from my sweet Erin the green

It wasn't for murder that I received my sentence
I ardently loved al mankind
From the naked I clothed I made the acquaintance
Of friendships sincere and sublime

When my enemy assailed me no dagger I drew
He was of a savage temper, but with a smile I did subdue
The noble bonds of charity I held all in my view
From my childhood in sweet Erin the green

Belfast that sweet harbour of commerce and pleasure
William Hill he bids you farewell
You're the sweetest in the north for talent and teasure
And may peace and goodwill with you dwell

And though the cruel ocean between us now does roll
My heart will be as faithful as the needle's to the Pole
A poor convict I remain, my sad spirits to condole
Far away from you, my sweet Erin the green


The first time I saw my love, happy was I
I knew not what love was nor how to deny
But I made too much freedom of my love's company
Saying, “My generous lover, you're welcome to me.”

She says, 'My relations angry are all
Because I've gone with you from my father's fine hall
But let my relations, let them all angry be
For my generous lover, you're welcome to me'

He says, 'Now farewell dear I must be away
For I in this country no longer can stay
But keep your mind easy and leave your heart free
Let no man be your sharer, my lover, but me.'

This poor pretty creature, she stood on the ground
And her cheeks were like ivory and the tears falling down
Saying, 'Jimmy, dearest Jimmy, you're the first that e'er wooed me
And I'm sorry that I ever said, you're welcome to me'

Oh happy is the girl that ne'er loves a man
And easy can tie up her narrow waist band
For she's free from all sorrow and sad misery
That ever said, 'My lover, you're welcome to me'.


T'was over that wild beaten track, a friend of the great Bonaparte's
Did pace the sands and lofty rocks by St Helena's shores
The wind it blew a hurricanes, the lightning flash around did dart
The seagulls were a shrieking and the waves all around did roar
'Ah hush, rude winds', the stranger cried, 'while I do pace this weary spot
Where alas our gallant hero his heavy eyes did close
But while his valiant limbs do rot, his name shall never be forgot'
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

'Ha England', he cried, 'why did you persecute that hero bold?
Much better you had slain him on the plains of Waterloo
Napoleon he was a friend to heroes all, both young and old
He caused the money for to fly wherever he did go'
Plans were arranged night and day, this great commander to betray
He said, 'I'll go to Moscow and that will ease my woe
And if fortune smiles without delay, the whole wide world shall me obey'
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

Thousands and thousands he then did rise to conquer Moscow by surprise
He led his men across the Alps oppressed by frost and snow
But being near the Russian land, it caused him for to open his eyes
All Moscow was a-blazing and his men they drove to and fro
Napoleon dauntless, he viewed the plains and wept in anguish at the same
'Retreat, retreat me gallant men, for the time it do press on'
What thousands died in that retreat, some were their horses forced to eat
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

At Waterloo his men they fought, commanded by brave Bonaparte
Attended by Field marshal Ney and he was bribed by gold
When Blucher led the Prussians in, it nearly broke Napoleon's heart
He says, 'My thirty thousand men are slain, and I am sold!'
He viewed the plain and cried, 'Tis lost', and then his favourite charger crossed
The plains were in confusion, with death and dying woe
The bunch of roses did advance and boldly entered into France
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

Then Bonaparte he was meant to be a prisoner across the sea
On the rocks of St Helena, it was an awful plan
He was doomed a prisoner there to be till death would end his misery
His son soon followed to the tomb, it was an awful plan
'Tis long enough he has been dead, the blast of war all around us spread
And may our shipping float again to face the daring foe
And now my lads when honour calls, we'll boldly face those wooden walls
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose


You ranting lads and sporting blades come listen to my song
I'm sure that it will please you and it won't detain you long
On the 17th of April thousands went with joy
To see the English champion fight the Bold Benicia Boy

T'was in the town of Farnborough all in the bloomin' spring
When the burly English champion he stripped off in the ring
He stripped to fight young Heenan that gallant son of Troy
And try his English muscle on the bold Benicia Boy

It was early in the morning , before the cock did crow
Like tigers into battle these gallant lads did go
The blood it flew in torrents and never a blow they missed
They carried a pair of thunderbolts well fastened in each fist

It was hit and stop and jab and cut 'til Sayers he let go
Right onto Heenan's nasal and he made the claret flow
Then out cried bold Jack Heenan 'I owe you manys the score
And I'll pay you back with interest in a couple of moments more"

The very next round after Jack Heenan he gave a spring
The like was never seen before inside a British ring
Tom Sayers dropped like he was shot and he lay there on the ground
And out cries bold Jack Heenan 'I claim the first knockdown'

They battled for two hours or more 'til Heenan was quite blind
And Sayers with a broken arm, such men you seldom find
The people they stood all amazed, such a fight they never saw
They rushed the ring and they stopped the fight and it ended in a draw'

There never were two better men and none can be more game
They are two gallant heroes of honour and of fame
And if these two should battle for the champion belt again
We want no favours to be shown, but let the best man win


Oh, the Lords and the Commons, Bill Gladstone and Bright
Thought to settle our troubles in a day or a night
So they clapped on Coercion then brought in the Bill
And arrests and evictions are going on still
They arrested bold Davitt, our one-armed chief
And placed him with murderers robbers and thieves
They arrested our holy priest dear as heart’s core
Kettle and Brennan, and two hundred more


Then up with the flag raised by Davitt, our head
Firm grip on the land, be united he said
A fair compensation serves landlords right well
'Hold your rents! Hold your harvest!' quoth Fanny Parnell

They arrested John Dillon Tipperary's tried man
At the fight in St. Stephens he stood in the van
With Parnell our great leader, undaunted and brave
But Dillon they feared, on his mission to save
Harold Ryder, the preacher from up the Black North
Sprang up in the front and the warning set forth
In prison John Dillon may die do you see?
So John Bull took the warning and let him go free

Then 'the land for the people', their title from God
They will live by the land or they’ll die on the sod
Loved Erin, our mother, shall hail from the west
Her sons and her daughters her priesthood has blessed
Take away Doctor Foster, that vile buckshot pill
Surgeon Burke, on Emergency ready to kill
Your prescriptions to cure us won’t answer you see
For the land it is ours and we mean to be free


You sons of Dan O'Connell's guard, give ear unto my doleful ditty
It's all about a sailor lad, whose birthplace was in Dublin city
My song is just to demonstrate a story with a pious moral
That starts around by Carlisle Bridge, and ends up on the Isles of Coral

A schooner sailed from Grorge's Quay, for foreign parts one sultry season
And on the shore a maiden stood and cried like one bereft of reason
'Oh Johnny Doyle, my love for you is true, but full of deep contrition
For what'll all the neighbours say, about me in this sad condition

The capstan turned the sails unfurled, the schooner scudded down the Liffey
This damsel gave a piercing shriek, she was a mother in a jiffy!
The vessel passed the harbour bar and headed out for foreign waters
To China, where they're very wise, and drown at birth their surplus daughters

Now years and years have passed and gone, and Mary's child is self-supporting
And Mary's heart is fit to break when this young buck goes out a'courtin'
And so says she, 'On one fine day, he'll go and leave me melancholy
I'll dress meself in sailor's clothes and scour the seven seas for Johnny'

She shipped on board a pirate bold that raided on the hot Equator
And with these hairy bucaneers there sailed this aweet and virtuous creature
The captain thought her name was Bill, his character was most nefarious
Consorting with this heinous beast, her situation was precarious

It was in the Saragossa Sea, two rakish barques were idly rolling
And Mary on the middle watch the quarter deck she was patrolling
She calmly watched the neighbouring ship then suddenly became exclaimant
For there upon the gilded poop stood Mr. Doyle in gorgeous raiment

And now they're back in sweet Ringsend the gem that sparkles on the Dodder
He leads a peaceful merchant's life and does a trade in oats and fodder
By marriage lines she's Mrs. Doyle, she runs a stall of perrywinkles
And when Johnny hears one's on the way, his single eye with joy it twinkles

And now their family numbers ten and Mary's heart sings lke a linnet
For Johnny's calmed that wild young buck that stretched her patience to the limit
They're happy now in sweet Ringsend no more they'll sail for foreign waters
For Johnny Doyle his hands are full, with five strong and five sweet daughters


Johnny and Molly they sat reposing, under a bank of blooming roses
While on the quay the ships were waiting, this young couple sat repeating
Love farewell, darling farewell, and it's all for parting love farewell

'Johnny dear, now do not leave me, for your absence it would grieve me
For if you go where the cannons rattle, I greatly fear you might fall in battle'
Love farewell, darling farewell, and it's all for parting love farewell

'Molly dear, now do not mourn, for there's a relief at my returning
When I come back from the war's alarm, I'll gently roll you in my arms'
Love farewell, darling farewell, and it's all for parting love farewell

The 'oul woman says 'Now do not wrong me, do not take my daughter from me
For if you do I will torment you, at my death my ghost will haunt you!'
Love farewell, darling farewell, and it's all for parting love farewell

The ship now she sails on the stormy ocean, seeking out on high promotion
While the trumpets sound and the drums are beating, march me boys, for there's no retreating
Love farewell, darling farewell, and it's all for parting love farewell


A lady fair in a garden walking
When a well dressed gentleman came riding by
He stepped up to her, all for to view her
And said 'Fair lady, would you fancy I?'
"I am no lady but a poor young maiden
And a poor girl of low degree
Therefore young man seek another sweetheart
For I'm not fitting your serving maid to be'

'And oh, kind sir, I have a lover
Tho' 'tis seven long years since I did him see
And seven years more I will wait upon him
For if he's living he'll return to me'
'Perhaps your lover is dead or drownded
Or maybe sailing all on the sea
Or maybe he is another's husband
And he will never return to thee'

'Oh, if he's married, I wish him happy
And if he's dead, I wish him rest
No other young man will e'er enjoy me
For he's the one that I love the best'
He put his hand unto his bosom
His lily white fingers they were long and small
He took out the ring that was broke between them
And when she saw that down she down did fall

He took her up all in his arms
And he gave her kisses most tenderly
Saying 'You're my jewel and I'm your single sailor
And now at last I've won home to thee
Yes I'm you true and your single sailor
You thought was drownded all in the sea
But I've passed over all my toil and trouble
And I've won home, love, to wed with thee'


At dawn as he lay upon his bed, he heard her sweet voice soft and low
'No more grieving, no more sorrow, just get up and start your life anew'

'All my life I've been your love, through good and bad we stayed true
But now I'm gone and you're still living, just get up and start your life anew'

'In the Spring of the year we were married, in Summer our children they did grow
In Fall our love it grew stronger, and in Winter to Heaven I did go'

'With you are the ones that I care for, so do this one small thing for me
Think fondly of our years together, and from sorrow set our loved ones free'


The lily is a fine flower, there's one grows in my garden
And though her roots are white as milk, her blooms are blood-red scarlet


Its a fine flower the lily

'Where did you get that lily flower the scarlet one you know?
Where did you get that lily flower?' 'I stole her long ago'

As I rode high on a haywain, I looked right o'er a big high wall
Saw a lawn and a bank of flowers, scarlet lilies sweet and tall

As I rode out on a haywain, the dusk was just a'falling
Thinks I, 'I'll have some lily roots this night I'll come a calling'

Come twelve I'd climbed that high high wall, silently I slipped over
The air was warm the moon was bright, the night was full of summer

I brushed past someone in the dark, a soft voice spoke 'who's there?
A young girl in a snow-white frock say's, 'what are you doing here?

'What are you doing here?' she says, 'Hush, don't answer loudly'
I looked at her a little and said, 'I've come for the lily

'But what'll they do if they find you trespassing past midnight?
What'll they say if find us together in the moonlight

My parents they may hear us or watch us from their window
Oh hush your voice and make no noise, and step into the shadow'

So in the shadow of that wall, she walked and whispered with me
'What happened then, old man, old man?' She gave me the lily


I've a neat slated house and a cow or two to grass
There's a plant garden running by the door
I've a shelter for the hens and a stable for the ass
And what can a man want more?
I dont know, maybe so
For a bachelor is aisy and he's free
But I've lots to look after and I'm living all alone
But there's no one looking after me

Now me father often tells me that I should have a try
To find a girl that owns a bit of land
And I know the way he says it that there's someone in his eye
And me mother has the whole thing planned
I don't know, will she go?
But t'would molify them greatly to agree
But there's little Brigie Flynn and it's her I'd love to win
But she never throws an eye to me

Now there's a little girl who is worth her weight in gold
And that's a decent dowry don't you see
And I mean to go and ask her as soon I get bold
If she'd come and have and eye for me
I dont know, will she go?
But I'd love to have her sitting on my knee
And I'd sing like a thrush on a hawthorne bush
When she comes to have an eye for me


O you gentlemen of the shamrock pay attention to my ditty
Be alive to your duty, be wise and be witty
Keep your powder dry and we'll make the tyrants fall
And we'll give them what Lord Leitrim got below in Donegal

With me riddle lol de day right
Fol lol the riddle lol de riddle lol de day right
Fol de rol de ree

It being on the 2nd of April this old debaucher left his den
He left bailiffs, bums, and harlots in the castle in Lough Rynn
To Makem and Kincaid he'd give a hellish bawl
Saying 'We'll tumble down the cabins in the County Donegal'

These two crafty looking renegades old Shiny did obey
Saying 'We'll hurl out the Papish and we'll drown them in the sea
As Cromwell did in days of yore, we'll waste them great and small
And we'll desolate their farms today below in Donegal

'Oh me lord I feel so horrified' cruel Makem he did say
'For my mind it has foretold me we'll meet Rory on the way'
His lordship then did answer in the presence of Kincaid
"Of Rory or the Devil sure I never was afraid'

So they road away together on that unlucky day
Until they came to Cretlagh Wood near an angle of the sea
Where poor Rory he was standing just hidden by a squall
All for to protect the widows in the County Donegal

When young Rory seen them coming his heart it leapt with glee
He gave three cheers for tenant rights, home rule and liberty
'Our maidens fair and colleens bawn that were proper straight and tall
T’was by you they were sent o'er the sea far far from Donegal'

Oh this monsters face began to foam, and his venom he did spew
And roared out in a hellish tone ’Sir who the Hell are you?
’I’m Rory of the Hill, me Lord, that makes you welcome all
To a hearty dose of bullet pills, this day in Donegal'

Young Makim cries. ‘Oh spare our lives, Mr. Rory if you please
No,no, for when you lie with dogs you’re sure to rise with fleas!
The boys were laughing at the joke they stood behind the wall
Saying ‘we’ll pepper ‘em up with powder and smoke this day in Donegal

'Go on my boys’ says Rory. ‘Make ready present and fire’
At his old brain they took fair aim and they hurled him in the mire
To revenge the joke, his head they broke, and his carcass there did maul
Stuck him in a pool, his head to cool, below in Donegal

The policemen like beagles gathered round this dirty beast
And the devils all both great and small,they had a sumptuous feast
He was dissected like a bullock down at Manorvaughan Hall
And the devils ate him, rump and stump, that night in Donegal


There’s many a spot in Innisfail much more beautiful it’s true
There’s many a hill and manys the dale that’s much more pleasing to the view
But there’s ne’er a place on earth’s broad face, that’s so dear to me I know
As the scenes around old Nephin, in the county of Mayo

All around thy base dear Nephin, as a child I used to play
The cottage nestled at thy foot where first I saw the light of day
Among thy ling and among thy heather and thy flora all aglow
I spotted fawn so gay at play, may God bless thee, dear Mayo

Thy colleens all are straight and strong and are true as tempered steel
From Castlebar down to the Moy, from Foxford right down to the Deel
With them I’d play the whole day long, until Phoebus bowed down low
Behind the hill, the hill of Nephin, in the county of Mayo

The dear old school where I was taught, they tell me that it stands there still
But where are all my schoolmates now, where are Mick young Tom and Bill?
Some wander in far distant lands and some are dead and gone I know
And I myself am far removed from dearest Nephin in Mayo

Age may now my form enfeeble, but can ne’er erase the past
The thoughts of boyhood’s happy hours will keep me cheered unto the last
But still my thoughts will wander back, way way back to long agot
As I sigh for dear old Nephin and the county of Mayo


Meeting is a pleasure between my love and I
And it's down in yonder valley I would meet her by and by
Yes it's down in yonder valley there lives my hearts delight
And it's with you lovely Molly I would stay 'til the broad daylight

While going to mass last Sunday my true love she passed me by
I knew her mind had altered by the roving of her eye
Yes I knew her mind had altered on a lad of high degree
So it's farewell lovely Molly your thoughts have wounded me

I put my hand into my pocket and a bottle I pulled out
Saying 'Take this lovely Molly, for our courtship is at an end'
Saying 'Drink you off the top, leave the bottom unto me
For there's money made and wagers laid that it's married we ne'er shall be'

So it's farewell to sweet Derry town, likewise the sweet Bann shore
Fare thee well McCaskey braes, that place I shall ne'er see more
For Amerikay lies far away that place I'll go and see
For it's blessed is she and cursed are they that has parted my love from me

So if you see a dark haired girl, with a dark and a rolling eye
It's take her in your arms and don't tell her the reason why
Just take her in your arms, til you feel her heart to yield
For a faint-hearted soldier never won the battlefield


My name is Michael Murphy from the County of Tyrone
I left my poor old mother in Ireland all alone
Our landlord has a stony heart, which never will relent
And I’ve come here to ‘Lancasheer’ to try to raise the rent

I bade farewell to sweet Kathleen, a cushla grá mo chroí
With my bundle on me back I crossed the ragin’ sea
To cut your hay or reap your corn, I’ve tumbled to your town
Who will employ an Irish boy to cut the harvest down?

When I landed in Liverpool imagine my surprise
To see the wagon loads of food enough to reach the skies
I thought about my native home and heaved a mighty groan
Sure the English people get the meat and fling poor Pat the bone

If Ireland could but get her own, how happy we would be
And look upon the English boys as brothers o’er the sea
Then treat poor Pat no longer like a ‘lectioneering’ tool
But help along old Gladstone with a measure of Home Rule

My brother Barney went away, many years ago
To fight among the English boys for Britain’s weal or woe
Poor boy, he shed his Irish blood away in foreign lands
And left his bones to bleach upon the burning desert sands

Sometimes I long to follow him and would if I were free
And visit those great cities in the lands across the sea
But I must not leave my mother dear to sob and sigh alone
But raise the rent and hurry back to her and old Tyrone


One summer's as I was walking
By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray
I spied a convict his fate bewailing
As on the sunny river bank he lay
I am a native of Erin's island
Though banished now from my native shore
They tore me from my aged parents
And from the damsel that I adore

I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie
At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains
At Castlehill and the cursed Toongabie
And at all these stations I've lain in chains
But of all places of condemnation
And penal stations in New South Wales
To Moreton Bay I have found no equal
Excessive tyranny each day prevails

For three long years I've been beastly treated
Arund my legs heavy chains I've worn
My back from flogging is lacerated
And oft times covered in my crimson gore
And manys the man through downright starvation
Lies mouldering underneath the clay
For Captain Logan he had us mangled
All on the triangles of Moreton Bay

Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews
We laboured there under Logan's yoke
Til a native black lying there in ambush
Delivered up his fatal stroke
Let fellow prisoners be exhilarated
That such a tyrant his fate should find
And when from bondage we're liberated
All former suffering shall fade from mind


When we met, it was in the hot green jungle
Your perfect flesh impervious to anything fungal
You would sweat coconut milk and
I'd lie awake, restless with the heat during the night


Dawn would come and I would start to feel my own sunrise
But you'd just lie, sleeping

And so we went away in search of gentler breezes
When we arrived, I longed to lie and rustle in your grasses
But you would not permit me to retire there
None but a fly might settle on the meadow of your leg

Then we moved on until we reached the tundra in the winter
Of course I longed to kiss her frosty teeth in the cold air
But now that you've grown bloated on seal fat
Not even flies will settle on the meadow of her leg


'Good people lend an ear,' says the poor old man
'While the truth I will relate in my doleful song
How the landlord threw me out of my farm and my house
And in the union I am found' says the poor old man

'My dwelling they pulled down,' says the poor old man
'And he levelled it to the ground,' says the poor old man
Where my rent I freely paid and my children three I reared
Till they had to cross the seas, says the poor old man

'In Rathkeale I am well known,' says the poor old man
'For it is my native home,' says the poor old man
'Until the landlord dispossessed every man without a lease
From the land they have reclaimed' says the poor old man

'It's no wonder I should I fret,' says the poor old man
'After where I left my sweat,' says the poor old man
'To be turned out of the house that long I’d thought me own
That me father built of yore', says the poor old man

'I have reason to complain,' says the poor old man
'Since a pauper I became,' says the poor old man
'It’s the landlord I may blame for my poor and scanty meal
A dish of foreign Injun meal,' says the poor old man

'If machiners were not here,' says the poor old man
'As they were in former days,' says the poor old man
'We’d be working at our trade, with our reaping hook and spade
And we’d have some cash to spare,' says the poor old man

'But if Dan were here today,' says the poor old man
It’s then we’d get fair play,' says the poor old man
'For he’d get the ‘Tenant Right’ and his foes he would defy
And I’d have no cause to fly,' says the poor old man

'But if landlords we could eat,' says the poor old man
'I would dress him very neat,' says the poor old man
'I’d put pepper on his head, neck, belly, fins and tail
And I’d have a hearty meal, says the poor old man


When first I came unto this country, it was to view the meadows gay
T'was there I spied a handsome fair maid, to me she was like the queen of May
I asked her kindly if she could marry, or if she could be a poor sailor's wife
'Oh no kind sir I'd rather tarry, and I would choose the sweet single life'

'Oh fairest creature the pride of Nature, why do you differ from all female kind?
For you are youthful both fine and handsome and to marry you I am much inclined'
'But now kind sir I must tell you, that I am promised these five years and more
To the one O'Reilly from the County Leitrim, which often grieves my poor heart full sore'

'You're like the swan that swims the ocean and making motions with both it's wings
Your snow-white breast it would make a potion for a noble lord or an Irish king
For you are youthful fair and handsome and you ar fittng to be a queen
I wish I was in battle wounded and your beautiful face I had never seen'

'I wish I had you in Phoenix Island, a thousand miles from your native home
Or in some valley where none could find you, and you might incline then to be my own
For there I would caress my jewel and if along with me you'd consent to go
I'd sail you over to Pennsylvania and bid adieu to O'Reilly for evermore'

'In the morning when I cannot see you, my heart lies bleeding for you all day
For in the evening I can't come near yuo, for them that's bound they must obey
For youth and folly make young men marry and here no lnoger can I stay
What can' t be cured must be endured, so farewell darling, I must away'


Young Pat Molloy's an Irish boy, he left sweet County Clare
Say's he 'I'll go to London to see the wonders there
Sure I've often heard that London was a very pretty place
So bedad says, I'll go and see it that's the bloomin''case'

Pat shook hands with all the lads and and he kissed his colleen dear
He left the sod, he did begod, and he never shed a tearr
Say's he 'Me lads I'll know the road if ever I am sent
Up to that mighty place they call, the House of Parliament'

Now when Pat arrived in London, he was taken by surprise
For the size of that great city fairly dazzled Paddy's eyes
While dodgin' on quite easily, meditating to himself
He met a ragged Cockney, with a donkey, selling delf

Now this ragged ill-bred cockney wouldn't let poor Paddy pass
Saying, 'Come and speak to your brother' while he pointed to the ass
'Well bedad,' says Pat, 'I never knew that I had a brother here!'
And with that he stooped and he whispered into the donkey's ear

Now when Pat was speaking to ass, now boys what did he do?
Well he spat the tobacco juice in his ear he did bedads 'tis true
Well the ass went mad, upset the cart, smashed all the earthenware
And bejapers boys, the Cockney, he went crazy on the square

Now he shouted for a policeman to take poor Pat in charge
Saying 'Sieze this Irish vagabond, for he should'nt be at large'
'Begone you English spailpín' cries Paddy with a smile
'For you took me to be an ass 'cos I came from Erin's Isle'

Now before the magistrate, poor Pat he had to stand next day
To account all for his crime, he asked what he'd to say
'Bedad' say's Pat, 'I'm charged with more than ever I did
I just spoke to my brother, and I did what I was bid'

'Well now', said the magistrate, 'don't you know that the ass went mad'
'Well indeed I do' says Paddy, 'and I'm sorry too bedads'
'Be careful,' cries the magistrate, 'we'll have no nonsense here
Just come and tell me every word you whispered in his ear'

'Well indeed I will,' says Paddy, 'that request I can't refuse
For I'd often heard that donkeys they were very fond of news
I thought I might say something this 'oul donkeys's heart to cheer
And now I'll tell you every word that I whispered in his ear'

'Well I told the ass,' says Paddy, 'that we had our wrongs redressed
That noble wealthy Irishmen were no longer oppressed
We got rid of all the landlords, Ireland to ourselves we had
And when the donkey heard the news, be Jesus he went mad!'

To hide his face the magistrate, he had to stoop his head
For he couldn't stop from laighing when he heard what Paddy said
'Good luck to you bold Pat' say's he, 'a clever rogue you are
And for your clever answer, I'll dismiss you from the bar!'


As I was a walking one evening of late
Where the fragrant fine flowers the fields decorate
I carelessly rambled where I do not know
By the fair crystal fountain that falls in Glencoe
Like she whom the pride of Mt. Ida had won
There arose a young lassie as bright as the sun
And the ribbons and the tartan around her did flow
That once graced young Dónal the pride of Glencoe

Said I, 'My fond creature, your charming sweet smile
And your comely fine features my heart has beguiled
And if your kind affection on me you`ll bestow
I`ll bless the happy hour we met in Glencoe'
'Kind sir,' she made answer, 'Your love I disdain
I have a young sweetheart and Dónal by name
And he went to the wars about ten years ago
And a maid I'll remain `til he returns to Glencoe'

'Ah, perhaps your young Dónal regards not your name
And has placed his affection on some foreign dame
He might have forgotten for all that you know
That comely young creature he left in Glencoe'
'From his promise my Dónal he`d never depart
For love, truth and honour stand firm in his heart
And if I ne'er more see him, then single I`ll go
And mourn for my Dónal the pride of Glencoe'

Then seeing her constant he drew out a glove
Which in parting she gave him in token of love
She flew to his arms then and the tears down did flow
'Ah, you`re welcome sweet Dónal the pride of Glencoe'
'Come cheer up now Flora, your sorrows are o`er
And since we have met love we`ll never part more
And the loud blast of battle, far distant may blow
Whilst in peace and contentment we`ll remain in Glencoe'


Ye muses divine, combine and lend me your aid
To pen these few lines for I fear that my heart is betrayed
By a virgin most fair who's as dear to me than my life
But from me she is flown and is known as the red-haired man's wife

A letter I'll send with a friend down to the seashore
To let her understand I'm the man that her does adore
And if she'd but leave that slave I'd fordeit my life
And she'd live like a lady and ne'er be the red-haired man's wife

I straight took my one day through a shady green grove
And crossed purling streams where the small birds do warble and rove
From thence was conveyed to where nature does boast of her pride
And stood all amazed and gazed at the red-haired man;s wife

I offered a favour and sealed it with my own hand
She just smiled and said 'Would you lead me to break the command?
Therefore young man be easy, let nature not cause so much strive
I was given away and will stay as the red-haired man's wife'

My darling sweet Phoenix if you will be my own
For the patriarch David had a number of wives 'tis well knownr
So yield to my embraces and straight put an end to all strife
Or else I'll run crazy or gain the red-haired man's wife


In the merry month of May from my home I started
Left the girls of Tuam, nearly broken hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint a beer, my grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn and leave where I was born
With the stout blackthorn to banish ghosts and goblins
In a brand new pair of brogues, rattling ore the bogs
Frightening all the dogs on the Rocky road to Dublin


One two three four five
Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road
And all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol lol de rah

In Mullingar that night I rested limb so weary
Started by daylight next morning light and airy
Took a drop of the pure to stop me heart from sinking
That’s the Irishman’s cure, whenever he’s on for drinking
To see the lassies smile,laughing all the while
At me curious smile,.it would set your heart a- bubblin
Axed if I was hired, wages I required,
Till I was almost tired of the Rocky Road to Dublin

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city
Then I took a stroll all among the quality
My bundle it was stolen in a neat locality
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind
No bundle could I find upon my stick a wobbling
Enquiring for the rogue, they said that my Connaught brogue
Wasn’t much in vogue on the Rocky road to Dublin

From there I got away my spirits never failing
Landed on the quay just as the ship was sailing
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he
When I jumped aboard a cabin found for Paddy
Down amongst the pigs played some funny rigs
Danced some hearty jigs the water round me bubbling
When off Holyhead I wished myself was dead.
Or better far instead on the Rocky Road to Dublin

The boys of Liverpool when we safely landed
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing
'Hurrah me soul says I, me shillelagh I let fly'
Galway boys were by and saw I was a hobble in
With a loud hurray, they joined in the affray
We quickly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin


Young Roger the miller came courting of late
A rich farmer's daughter called beautiful Kate
She had to her fortune a great deal of ground
She had to her fortune five hundred pounds
She had to her fortune jewels and rings
She had to her fortune, she had to her fortune
Fifty fair things

When supper was over and the money laid down
It was a great fortune five hundred pounds
'Although that your daughter is handsome and fair
I never will wed her without the grey mare
And though that your daughter is handsome and fair
I never will wed her, I never will wed her
Without the grey mare'

'Well since it's no better, thank God it's no worse
My money once more I'll put down in my purse'
And Roger, the rascal, was kicked out the door
And requested not to go there any more
And it's then he pulled down his long yellow hair
Saying, 'I wish that I'd never, I wish that I'd never
Spoke of the grey mare'

When six weeks were over or two months about
He met this young woman and she walking without
He says 'Me dear jewel ah don't you know me?
I think that I've seen your face, kind sir, say's she
'Or a man with your features with long yellow hair
That once came acourting, that once came acourting
Me father's grey mare'

'Oh it wasn't to court the grey mare that I came
But the farmer's own daughter called Kitty by name
And I thought that the farmer he would not dispute
But give me his daughter and the grey mare to boot
Before he would part with such a fine son
But now I am sorry, it's now I am sorry
For what I have done'

'Well sorry', says Kitty, 'I value it not
There's young men enough in this town to be got
If you'd got the grey mare you might've married me
But now you'll get neither the grey mare or me!
The price of the grey mare was never so great
So fare you well Roger, it's fare you well Roger
Go and mourn for Kate!'


Come all you young men pray draw near now,and listen to these words I say
I’m going to tell you that the people of Ireland,are emigrating to Americay
Hurrah for the gallant sons of Erin, this poor country they can’t stand
They’re putting their foot on board of a ship,and sailing off to the Yankee land

The night before they’re due for sailing, all the neighbours round their house do throng
Just to take a parting a parting glass or otherwise to sing a song
They dance all night till early morning, each man cutting all around the floor
Until the mother comes in weeping, Saying take your childer to the door

The father he stands in the cabin, he knows he is all alone
And his heart is fit for breaking, his salt tears would melt a stone
Yes indeed they’re emigrating, this poor country they can’t stand
They’re putting their foot on board of a ship and sailing away to the Yankee land

The other day as I went walking down the road I chanced to go
I saw a crowd to me approaching, it nearly filled my heart with woe
For I saw the carts and carriages approaching, onwards, forwards to the train
And the handkerchiefs were waving, bidding farewell to Granuaile

When we reach the New York harbour, our friends will greet us with good cheer
Saying 'How’s old Ireland and how’s she doin’ and how’s she coming on this year?'
She’s the most distressed and cursed nation, that the world has ever seen
All she’s good for is process serving in that little isle of green

Yes indeed they’re emigrating from the land they love so dear
And any man that isn’t married, it’s divil the wife he’ll find this year
Hurrah for .......


You brave young sons of Erin's Isle, I hope you will attend awhile
To the wrongs of dear old Ireland I am going to relate
For black and cursed was the day, when our parliament was taken away
And all of our griefs and sufferings commences from that day
For our hardy sons and daughters fair, to other countries must repair
And leave their native land behind in sorrow to deplore
To seek employment they must roam, far far away from their native home`
From that sore oppressed island that they call the shamrock shore

Now Ireland is with plenty blessed, but the people they are sore oppressed
By those accursed tyrants that we're forced to obey
Some haughty landlords for to please, our houses and our lands they'll seize
To put fifty farms into one and take us all away
Regardless of the widow's sighs, the mother's tears and orphan's cries
In thousands we are driven from home which grieves my heart full sore
We fought with famine and disease, we've emigrated across the sea
From that sore oppressed island that they call the shamrock shore

Our sustenance all taken away, the tithes and taxes for to pay
To support that law-protected church to which they do adhere
The Irish gentry, well you know, to other countries they do go
And the money from old Ireland they squander here and there
But if our squires would stay at home, and not to other countries roam
And build mills and factories here to employ the laboring corps
For if we had trade and commerce there, to me no nation could compare
To that sore oppressed island that they call the shamrock shore

John Bull he boasts and he laughs with scorn, and he says that Irishmen were born
To be ever discontented for at home they cannot agree
But we'd banish discord from our land, and in harmony like brothers stand
To demand the rights of Ireland, let us all united be
And our parliament in College Green, to reassemble it will be seen
And happy days in Erin's Isle we soon will have once more
And dear old Ireland soon will be, a great and glorious country
And peace and blessings soon will smile all round the shamrock shore


Ye damsels of Castalia, Melpomene and Thalia
Extenuate an alien that languishs in woe
Dan Cupid has surprised me, waylaid and pauperised me
Why thus he martyrises me is what I wish to know
Exiled in this fair city, a paragon of pity
I lucubrate my ditty and I catalogue to tell
Of the beauty of that matron, my connoisseur and patron,
That consort fit for Satan, the Star of Sunday's Well

Expressly fabricated, for to be venerated
Her weight is estimated at fully fifteen stones
The undulating ocean recalls her vagrant motion
Magnanimous devotion I render her alone
She's bloomong and she's bonny with real estate and money
A flowerlet filled with honey in a soft suburban dell
And I the bee go soaring around her bower adoring
The beauty and the store of the Star of Sunday's Well

This matron subsidises both Beamish's and Wise's
The viands that she prizes provide most comely faire
I wish I could administer a modicum of Guinness to her
For there is nothing sinister nor medieval there
Her heart I would allure it, but that a grocer's curate
Is planning to secure it by artifice's fell
And I've given hints abundant at this obscure incumbent
To flutter less, redundant round the star of Sunday's Well

All through the Summer weather two lovers linked together
Patrolled Marina's heather or strolled along the Dyke
The blackbirds and the thrushes established in the bushes
Their elegies in gushes, propelled to Kerry Pike
I heard their jocund royster and sighed as for his cloister
The quaint but fulsome oyster, like a hermit in his celll
But I lacked reciprocation in this matron's cogitation
For I got a harsh negation from the Star of Sunday's Well


Farewell my dearest sister Jane, a fond and last adieu
At the early age of 35, I now must part from you
For the murder of James Donovan, I’m now condemned to die
On 9th February ’95 upon the gallows high

John Twiss from Castleisland, it’s true it is my name
I never did commit a crime, why should I deny the same
I own I was a sporting man with spirits blithe and gay
But spies and paid informers, my life they swore away

On the 25th of April 18 and 94
That was the day, dear sister, long years you may deplore
When I was taken prisoner the police to me did say
'For the murder of James Donovan, we arrest you on this day'

It was at the Cork assizes my enemy all swore
That I had shot James Donovan and laid him in his gore
The jury found me guilty and the judge to me did say
'The 9th of Feb.95 shall be your dying day'

But when I heard the sentence passed to Judge Fellows I did say
'The jury found me guilty without the least delay
I swear that James Donovan I never yet did know
May the Lord forgive my enemies who proved my overthrow'

My blessings on the Mayor of Cork and the people there also
In thousands they petitioned to release me they did go
But my enemies determined were that my life should be laid down
For spies and paid informers are traitors to the crown

My last hour it is approaching, I hear the death bell toll
The hangman he has pinioned me I must now give up my soul
You know that I am innocent that’s all I have to say
May the Lord forgive my enemies all on their Judgement Day


Come all you true sons of Erin attend to these few nimble lines
I’ll sing you a song about spinning it was a great trade in it’s time
Some they spun worsted and yarn, others they spun flax and tow
By experience my friends you will see how the wheels of the world they do go


So these are the wheels of the world my friends you must understand
For 300 years they’ve been spreading destruction all over the land

Luther spun out his existence and so did King Henry the Eighth
John Calvin by Satan’s temptation their maxims he did imitate
Then Cranmer he joined the new system and swore he’d make spindles of steel
Pluto himself did assist them, perdition that turned their wheel

Lord Nelson he was a great spinner aboard of the ship Victory
He was counted the greatest of spinners that ever set sail on the sea
His shipmates were all famous spinners, for Nelson they spun very well
But the French spun a ball at Trafalgar, and on the ship’s deck Nelson fell

Prince Albert came spinning to England, his wheels by a compass did steer
He spun-cut a Queen for his consort and some little thousands a year
John Bull he must go spinning, a few thousand more he must fork
For the Queen has another young son that was spun in the city of Cork

The factory owners are spinning, their wheels are turning away
Soon they’ll be wanting be their hands for to work 13 hours a day
They don’t care a fig for the poor, they heed not their sighs or their moans
Don’t care a pin if you work till they spin all the flesh from their bones

The rich they are all famous spinners, of that we are all very sure
Always contriving of schemes that will crush down the rights of the poor
So if you’re compelled to go spinning, let each of your spindles be steel
Let liberty then be your motto, and glory will turn your big wheel

Prince Albert came spinning to England, his wheels by a compass did steer
He spun-cut a Queen for his consort and some little thousands a year
John Bull he must go spinning, a few thousand more he must fork
For the Queen has another young son that was spun in the city of Cork

The factory owners are spinning, their wheels are turning away
Soon they’ll be wanting be their hands for to work 13 hours a day
They don’t care a fig for the poor, they heed not their sighs or their moans
Don’t care a pin if you work till they spin all the flesh from their bones
The rich they are all famous spinners, of that we are all very sure
Always contriving of schemes that will crush down the rights of the poor
So if you’re compelled to go spinning, let each of your spindles be steel
Let liberty then be your motto, and glory will turn your big wheel


Oh there was a widow woman in the Westmorlands and she didn't have a daughter but the one
And her only advice was by day or by night, for to never give her maidebhead to none
'Oh hold your tongue dear mother,' she says, 'And therefore dinna let it be
For there was a jolly soldier in the Queen's Lifeguards, last night he stole me maidenhead from me'

'Oh go, oh go, you saucy jade, and therefore dinna let it be
And bring me back the maidenhead you lost last night, or another night you'll never lie with me'
Now she is to the soldier gone, with her heart both light and free
Saying, 'give eme back the maidenhead you stole last night, for me mammy she's angry with me'

So he caught her by the middle so small and he threw her into the bed
And he turned up her heels where her head ought to be and he gave her back her maidenhead
Now she is to her mammy gone with her heart both light and free
Saying, 'I'm as clear of all mankind as the very first night you had me'

Well that fared well and so passed by, til the soldier's wedding it came on
And the widow woman dressed up her daighter so grand with a rose in every hand
'Oh who is that' cries the bride's daddy, 'That stands so fine and braw?'
'It's the widow woman's daughter from the Westmorlands and she tells her mammy all'

'Oh how can she do it, oh how can she do it, or how does she do it for shame
For it's nine long nights I lay with me love and never told it to any one
'If there's nine long nights you've lain with your love, another night you'll never lie with me!'
And he took the widow's daughter from the Westmorlands and he made her his braw lady


One evening of late as through Bandon I strayed
Bound for Clonakilty I was making me way
At Balliniscarthy some time I delayed
To wet me auld whistle with porter

Well I spat in me fist and I raised up me stick
And down the coach road like a hare I then flit
I cared not for landlords, bailiffs or old Nick
And sang like a lark in the morning

Well I’d scarcely been travelling a mile of the road
When I heard a dispute in a farmer’s abode
‘Twas the son of the landlord-an ill looking toad
And the wife of the bold tenant farmer

He said what in the devil’s come over you all?
Not one penny of rent at each time that I call
By next October I'll settle you all
For you’ll have the high road to Dungarvan!

'A robber' the bold tenants wife she replied
'You’re as bad as your daddy on the other side
But the National Land League will put down your pride
For they’re able to bear every storm'

'Its branches extend to the country and town
Protecting the tenants, their houses and ground
I owe you twelve months and I'll give you one pound
If you clear our receipts in the morning'

When she spoke of the Land League his lips they grew pale
Saying 'What good have you done but be stuck into jail
And the rent that you owe you must pay by next gale
And believe me, we’ll give you no quarter'

Your husband I saw in the town just last night
Drinking and shouting for poor tenants
But the month of October we’ll put you to flight
To follow your friends o’er the water

If my husband was drinking what has that to do?
I’d rather he’d drink it than give it to you
You skinny ‘oul miser you’re not worth a chew
And your mossy ‘oul land is no bargain

We all joined the Land League on last New Years Day
And I think, in my heart, we’re not going astray
While the clergy are with us we’ll carry the sway
Now marshalling all in good order

'Here’s to Father O’Leary the pride of our isle
He’s the boy that can title you ruffians in style
John Dillon and Davitt who rank in their file
Take care you don’t tread on their corns'

I stepped out from behind of the bush where I lay
And as he passed by me sure I heard him to say
'I wish to my God I was ten miles away
From the wife of the bold tenant farmer'

Well I shouted "Hurray" and she shouted “Yoohoo"
And across the green fields like a hare I then flew
Saying 'God save the Land League and old Ireland too
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar a tá sé'

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