I am a young fel
low that's saisy and bold
In
Castletown,
Connors, I'm very well known
In
Newcastle
West I spent many an oath
With
Kitty and
Judy and
Mary
Me parents rebuked me
for being such a rake
And for spending me time
in such frolicsome ways
I ne 'er could forget
the good nature of
Jane,
Yer a fog o' my jude, mar a thashe.
My parents had reared me
to shake and to mow,
To plough and to harrow,
to reap and to sow.
Me heart been too airy to drop it too low, I
set down on a high speculation.
On paper and parchment
they taught me to write,
And in
Euclid and grammar they opened my eyes.
And in multiplication, in truth, I was bright,
yet a foggum would shoot my repose.
If ye chance for to go to the town of
Rathkeel, the girdles all around
me do flock on the square.
Now some offer me apples, and others sweet cake, and they
treats me unknowns to their parents.
There's one from
Askeaton, and one from the pike,
and another from
Ard, and my heart has beguiled.
Though being from the mountains, her stockings are white,
and I'd love to be tightening
her girthers.
No, to quarrel for riches I
ne 'er was inclined,
For the greatest of misers
they must leave
all behind.
But I'll purchase a cow that'll never run dry,
And I'll milk her be twistin' or hardin'.
John
Damer of
Shrone had plenty of gold,
And
Lord
Devonshire's treasures are twenty
times more.
But should they're laid on their backs amidst nettles and stones,
You'd have fogged them
with shrewd maratache.
The old cow could be milked without clover or grass,
She'd be pampered on barley,
sweet corn, and the hops.
She'd be warm, she'd be stout,
she'd be free in the paps,
And she'd milk without spence
and her halter.
And the man that would drink, he'd eat
cocky's coffee,
And if anyone laughs,
we'd have wigs in the green.
And the feeble old hag,
she'd get supple and free,
And a foggum would shoot maritha's
shade.
Now there's some say I'm foolish,
there's some say I'm wise,
Though being fond of the women, I think,
is no crime.
Sure, the son of
King
David, he had ten thousand wives,
And his wisdom was highly regarded.
I'll till a good garden and work at my ease,
And each woman and child
could partake of the same.
If there'd be war in the cabin themselves,
they could blame you if
Fogham would shoot
Mor rith
Horshay.
But now for the future, I think I'll get wise and
I'll marry all those women who acted
so kind.
Aye, I'd marry them all on the morrow by -and
-by if the clergy'd agree to the bargain.
And then when I'd be old and me soul be at rest,
all those children and wives they
could keen at me wake.
Aye, they'd all gather
round, and they'd offer up prayers
To the
Lord for the soul of their father.