L. A. G. STRONG(WADHAM)THE MAD MANI thinkI'll do a fearful deedOf wickedness and cruelty,And then, if Father Walsh speaks truth,Jesus will weep a tear for me,And I will catch it in my hatJust here outside my cabin door:And put it on my little fieldWhere nothing ever grew before.And it will sprout so fine and brave,That lovely birds with yellow billsWill come to peck my crowded cornFrom all the Seven Holy Hills.THE BAIT-DIGGER'S SONAye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.An' him only two days in it—Sure ye'd hardly believe it at all:But it's God's truth. He went down fishingOne night from the North Wall.What way was it? There's none knows rightly—He was there one turn o' the light,An' when next it came round he was no place:An' no sign of him till next night,When two men out o' Coliemore Harbour,Rowin' back from the fishin' ground,Seen him floatin' by on his bellyDown the middle o' Dalkey Sound:But they didn't dare stop for to get him,For the boat was a heavy weight,An' the wind was strong, an' the currentWas runnin' the divil's own gate.An' he crossed the Bay o' Killiney;Till next mornin', at twelve o' the clock,They found him all swelled an' puffy,At Bray, in the slit of a rock.Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.
L. A. G. STRONG(WADHAM)
L. A. G. STRONG(WADHAM)
I thinkI'll do a fearful deedOf wickedness and cruelty,And then, if Father Walsh speaks truth,Jesus will weep a tear for me,And I will catch it in my hatJust here outside my cabin door:And put it on my little fieldWhere nothing ever grew before.And it will sprout so fine and brave,That lovely birds with yellow billsWill come to peck my crowded cornFrom all the Seven Holy Hills.
I thinkI'll do a fearful deedOf wickedness and cruelty,And then, if Father Walsh speaks truth,Jesus will weep a tear for me,And I will catch it in my hatJust here outside my cabin door:And put it on my little fieldWhere nothing ever grew before.And it will sprout so fine and brave,That lovely birds with yellow billsWill come to peck my crowded cornFrom all the Seven Holy Hills.
I thinkI'll do a fearful deedOf wickedness and cruelty,And then, if Father Walsh speaks truth,Jesus will weep a tear for me,
I thinkI'll do a fearful deed
Of wickedness and cruelty,
And then, if Father Walsh speaks truth,
Jesus will weep a tear for me,
And I will catch it in my hatJust here outside my cabin door:And put it on my little fieldWhere nothing ever grew before.
And I will catch it in my hat
Just here outside my cabin door:
And put it on my little field
Where nothing ever grew before.
And it will sprout so fine and brave,That lovely birds with yellow billsWill come to peck my crowded cornFrom all the Seven Holy Hills.
And it will sprout so fine and brave,
That lovely birds with yellow bills
Will come to peck my crowded corn
From all the Seven Holy Hills.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.An' him only two days in it—Sure ye'd hardly believe it at all:But it's God's truth. He went down fishingOne night from the North Wall.What way was it? There's none knows rightly—He was there one turn o' the light,An' when next it came round he was no place:An' no sign of him till next night,When two men out o' Coliemore Harbour,Rowin' back from the fishin' ground,Seen him floatin' by on his bellyDown the middle o' Dalkey Sound:But they didn't dare stop for to get him,For the boat was a heavy weight,An' the wind was strong, an' the currentWas runnin' the divil's own gate.An' he crossed the Bay o' Killiney;Till next mornin', at twelve o' the clock,They found him all swelled an' puffy,At Bray, in the slit of a rock.Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.An' him only two days in it—Sure ye'd hardly believe it at all:But it's God's truth. He went down fishingOne night from the North Wall.What way was it? There's none knows rightly—He was there one turn o' the light,An' when next it came round he was no place:An' no sign of him till next night,When two men out o' Coliemore Harbour,Rowin' back from the fishin' ground,Seen him floatin' by on his bellyDown the middle o' Dalkey Sound:But they didn't dare stop for to get him,For the boat was a heavy weight,An' the wind was strong, an' the currentWas runnin' the divil's own gate.An' he crossed the Bay o' Killiney;Till next mornin', at twelve o' the clock,They found him all swelled an' puffy,At Bray, in the slit of a rock.Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,
An' carried a middling way:
But never the like o' me brother
Was floated from Dublin to Bray.
An' him only two days in it—Sure ye'd hardly believe it at all:But it's God's truth. He went down fishingOne night from the North Wall.
An' him only two days in it—
Sure ye'd hardly believe it at all:
But it's God's truth. He went down fishing
One night from the North Wall.
What way was it? There's none knows rightly—He was there one turn o' the light,An' when next it came round he was no place:An' no sign of him till next night,
What way was it? There's none knows rightly—
He was there one turn o' the light,
An' when next it came round he was no place:
An' no sign of him till next night,
When two men out o' Coliemore Harbour,Rowin' back from the fishin' ground,Seen him floatin' by on his bellyDown the middle o' Dalkey Sound:
When two men out o' Coliemore Harbour,
Rowin' back from the fishin' ground,
Seen him floatin' by on his belly
Down the middle o' Dalkey Sound:
But they didn't dare stop for to get him,For the boat was a heavy weight,An' the wind was strong, an' the currentWas runnin' the divil's own gate.
But they didn't dare stop for to get him,
For the boat was a heavy weight,
An' the wind was strong, an' the current
Was runnin' the divil's own gate.
An' he crossed the Bay o' Killiney;Till next mornin', at twelve o' the clock,They found him all swelled an' puffy,At Bray, in the slit of a rock.
An' he crossed the Bay o' Killiney;
Till next mornin', at twelve o' the clock,
They found him all swelled an' puffy,
At Bray, in the slit of a rock.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,An' carried a middling way:But never the like o' me brotherWas floated from Dublin to Bray.
Aye, there's many a man does be drownded,
An' carried a middling way:
But never the like o' me brother
Was floated from Dublin to Bray.