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Nach trua libh an buachaill deas óg Ar imigh uaidh stór a chroí, Ag imeacht fríd chnoic ina mbíonn ceo, Agus toirse rómhór ar a chroí, Ach shuífeadh sé suas ar bord In aice le stór a chroí, Go dtabharfadh sé leathdhosaen póg Don ainnir a bheoigh a chroí.
I mbaile beag a chuala mé an ceol Ba bhinne ná ceoltaí sí, Go sílfeá gur duine a fuair bás A bhí nite faoi chlár acu ann, Ach rannaigí eadraibh an cás Ós duine mé a tharlaigh ann, Bíodh beann agaibh araon ’S rannaigí fhéin an chlann.
Nach mór an cruinniú a rinne Eoghan Ó phós sé is chuaigh sé i dteach, Cúig ghíní fichead ’na ló gur chuir sé ina phóca seal, Níl beann ag Eoghan ar ór ach oiread le eorna ghlas, ’S i dtaca le Iseabál de, is aici a bhí an t-ór le rann, Tá beannacht na mbochta go deo léithe ina cóta cruinn, Dúshlán gach duine a bhfuil beo ’S a tháinig ón phór a bhí ceart.
Nach mór ar an phobal a d’fhág Gach uile bhean breá i do dhiaidh, Le gile, le deise is le breáthacht Níos deise ná bláth ’na gcraobh, Ba ródheas a muineál ’s a bráid, Ba ródheas a scarftha buí, Chan sin mar a bíos na cailíní óga, Bíos á dtarraingt fríd lár an toighe.
Dá mbeadh a fhios ag d’athair, a Sheáin, Go raibh tú ar an tsnámh aréir, Fá do choinne go gcuirfeadh sé bád Agus foireann mhaith shásta léi, Ach pill ar an bhaile más áil, Is gheobhaidh tú na dánta cruinn, Cúig phunta den airgead bhán ’S cead codladh le grá do chroí.
Not pity you the lovely young man on went from store to heart, Disappearing through the hills where there is fog, and torch too big of a heart, But would sit up on board Near treasure of his heart, would give it half a dozen kiss Don maiden to activated heart.
In a small town I heard the music sweeter than ceoltaí she, That sílfeá a deceased A was washed under a program in it, But rannaigí between both the cases As one I happened there, Have a matter of you both and rannaigí self the family .
Almost a meeting by Eoghan Ó he married that he took home, Five guineas twenty 'the day that he put in his pocket turn, not matter Eoghan gold either a barley green, and on Iseabál on, she was the gold with a rhyme, is goodbye forever-poor a coat gray round, challenge everyone alive and became the breed was right.
The public must not be left Every woman loves behind, With brightness, the right is a breáthacht More beautiful than a flower 'of the branches, was very nice neck and before it, was very nice to scarftha yellow, Chan as that anyway the young girls, BIOS drawn through the middle of the house.
Had to know your father, John, Thank you for the tsnámh last night, for you to enjoy a boat would And she delighted a good team, But the home pill if wishes, is you get the exact poems, Five pounds of white money and allow sleep to love your heart.
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