The Banks of Mulroy Bay

When the golden sun was settin far behind the ocean blue
The silvery moon was risin oer the hills of Limerick toun
The day I sailed from Ireland, that mornin dark and grey
When I bad farewell to Mary on the banks of Mulroy Bay

And that (?) so neat and small
The (?) the hills of Donegal
I ofttimes dreamt of Eire, my friends now far away
And the bonny purple heather round the banks of Mulroy Bay

I ofttimes dreamt of my mother settin by the cottage door
My sister and my brother as they wandered round the shore
On a bonny summer's evenin in that dear land far away
And the fishin boats that anchored near the banks of Mulroy Bay

I am now a lonely exile far from my native home
A poor forlorn stranger through the wild world I must roam
I may never see the (?) the hawthorne bushes gay
Nor the bonny hills of Fanad near the banks of Mulroy Bay

I have roamed this wide world over (?) rich and grand
I won't forget old Fanad, my own dear native land
I won't forget old Fanad, that mornin dark and grey
When I bad farewell to Mary on the banks of Mulroy Bay

The Road to Dundee

Dark rolls the clouds over hills and high mountains
And cold blows the blast over the lowlyin sea
I spied a pretty fair maid, she appeared like an angel
She was askin the road and the miles to Dundee

Says I, My pretty fair maid, I cannae weel tell you
But grant me one favor, where do you dwell?
So if you like me to walk along with you
I will show you the road and the miles to Dundee

She hooked in my arms and onward we walkĖd
The neighbors all wondered who this young girl could be
(?) beauty and splendor she appeared like an angel
And we both walked the road and the miles to Dundee

So we both shook hands and parted, I bad her good evening
This young girl turned round, she had a tear in her eye
She said, Come back, my wee laddie, for I must reward you
For you showed me the road and the miles to Dundee

Here is fifty bright guineas my father can send you
He wants to support me a lady go free
Go down to yon tavern and drink my best respects, love
For you showed me the road and the miles to Dundee

Here is a health to this wee lassie and well I respect her
And all yous young laddies that's now listening to me
To never shun a wee girl for bein all undaunted
Nor askin the road nor the miles to Dundee

Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore

From Derry Quay we did set sail on the 24th of May
We were (?) by a pleasant gale, bound for Americay
Fresh waters then we did lay in, five thousand tons or more
In case we run short going through to New York far far from the shamrock shore

In three days' sailing we were all seasick, not one on board was free
We were all confined into our bunks, not one to pity poor me
No father so kind nor no mother so dear to lift up my head when sore
Which makes me lament for the days that I spent around Paddy's green shamrock shore

We landed safe on the other side in three and twenty days
We were taken as passengers by the hand, we were led in such different ways
Each one of us havin a parting glass in case we might never meet more
And with flyin bumpers we drunk a health to Paddy's green shamrock shores

So fare you well, sweet Liza dear, likewise to Derry town
And twice farewell to my comrade boys that came from that scented ground
A fortune never fails me, nor I to have money in store
Sure I will come back, aye and wed the wee lass that I left on the shamrock shore

The Maid of Coolmore

From sweet Londonderry to fair London town
There is no better harbor (?) can't be found
Where the children do wander (?) shore
And the joyous bells are ringing for the maid of Coolmore

The first time that I met her sure she did pass me by
On the next time I saw her she bad me goodbye
But the third time I saw her she grieved my heart sore
For she said, (?) Coolmore

To the north coast of Americay my love I'll go and see
It is there I don't know no one nor no one knows me
And if I do not find her I'll return home no more
Like a pilgrim I will wander for the maid of Coolmore

Emigration Song

(Gaelic)

Barney O'Hare

Refrain:
O boys my name it is Barney O'Hare
Old Ireland I was born in
I left my home in the county Clare
And I landed here this mornin

I had as much as paid my boat
And two or three shillings over
And here I am on the search of a job
I'm an Irish cattle drover

So when I landed on the quay
I vowed myself in danger
The boys began to laugh at me
Because I was a stranger

Says I, Man Mick will you hand me a stick?
And from his hands I snatched it
And oer his head I gived him a crack
A crack which made him scratch it

(Refrain)

As I walked up the gulleygate
And far from the steeple
He shouts, Man Jock keep in your feet
And don't upset the people

Says I, My man you think you are (?)
So I want none of your blarney
And with that I hit him a crack on the nose
--Take that and remember Barney

(Refrain)

As I walked up the (?) gate
A female stepped up to me
She had the cheek of impudence
She swore that she had knew me

Said she, My man d'ye not know me?
Says I, I beg your pardon
Says I, My lass it's a glass you want
But I haven't got one farthin

(Refrain)

The Irish Laboring Boy

As I rode out one evenin it bein all the month of May
I overheard a maid complain and grievously did sing
Saying, Cruel are my parents that made me so annoy
They will not let me marry my Irish laboring boy

Saying, Johnny is my true love's name, as you will plainly see
My parents they employĖd him a laboring boy to be
To hoe and reap, to sow the seed and to plow my father's land
But soon I fell in love with him, as you will understand

My father wished to have me wed unto some lord or peer
For I am the only heiress to five thousand pounds a year
But I've set my heart in one true love and he is my only joy
This nation I will ramble with my Irish laboring boy

My mother came to me and thus to me did say:
Your father has intended to appoint your wedding day
But I nobly her answer that with him I would never comply
That single I would still remain for my Irish laboring boy

Fill your glasses to the brim, brave boys, let the toast go merrily round
Here's a health to every Irishman that plows and sows the ground
For when his work is over to his home he'll come with joy
And happy is the girl that gets an Irish laboring boy

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