Farewell to Lissycasey 'tis the cradle
of my birth,
And faretheewell to Ennis town sure 'tis full of fun and mirth.
Not forgetting Killadysart with its woodlands ever-green,
Sure 'tis many the Sunday afternoon I spent there with my colleen.
I sailed for Londonderry in April eighty-two,
Bound for Philadelphie my living to pursue.
I bid farewell to one fair maid and a girl I do adore,
That I left broken-hearted after me in the Parish of Knockmore.
As I look on the ocean I think of Knockalough so blue,
Cahermurphy Hills and Kilrush Woods, most charming for to view.
Kilmihil and Sorrell Island where the poteen is made galore,
Sure there’s none of them bad spirits allowed in the Parish of
Knockmore.
On board the ship about half way out, a letter I will
write down,
And every line that I’ll write down, I’ll wet it with a
tear.
‘Tis coming from a broken heart that ne’er knew grief before,
Since I parted with Annie Murphy from the Parish of Knockmore.
In bottle tight I’ll seal this note, in case
the ship goes down,
And nobody else will know of it, until the message is found.
Some earthly breeze might weave its course unto some foreign shore,
And sure somebody there might be kind enough, and send it to Knockmore.
As I look on the ocean I think of Knockalough so blue,
Cahermurphy Hills and Kilrush Woods, most charming for to view.
Kilmihil and Sorrell Island, where the poteen is made galore,
Sure there’s none of them bad spirits allowed in the Parish of
Knockmore.
|
Vincie
Boyle