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‘Do thugas grá cléibh dhuit, a spéirbhean, ó thús Ó leagas mo shúil ar do bhánchnis, Is go mb’fhearr liom ná mórchuid den ór atá im phúits Go mbeifeá sa chlúid i dtig am mháithrín, Bheadh do mhachaí breá bó ann romhatsa le crú Is do leabaidh glan chóirithe ó ló dhuit id rúm, Chuirfinn búclaí id bhróga luach corónach is púint, Is, a stóirín, ná tabharfá do lámh dom?’
‘Ní thabharfainn mo lámh duit go brách le haon fhonn, Mar tá scéal ort ansúd i dtig am mháithrín, Go bhfuair sí do thuairisc go suarach ar dtúis Go n-ólfá do shúsa i dtigh an tábhairne, Is gur mhinic, a stór, ort ó choróin go dtí púnt Ag caitheamh do stóir le mná óga gan chlú Is tar éis díol le fear ceoil ní bheadh feoirling id phúits Is an dóigh leat cé a thabharfadh a lámh duit.’
‘Ná creidse na bréaga go léir atá ar siúl Mar is annamh mé ag dul go tigh an tábhairne, Tá airgead im phócaí agus mórchuid im thrúnc Is níor chaitheas riamh púnt ar aon láthair, Beidh a mhalairt de ghnó agam sa bhfómhar atá chughainn, ’Baint garraithe prátaí is ag cur stácaí ar a mbonn, Is mo mhachaí atá lán de bhuaibh bána agus dubha Is gan éinne dhá gcrú ach mo mháithrín.’
‘Tá fear siopa in Eochaill is gheobhainn é le fonn, Is is dócha gurb é siúd dob fhearr liom, A dhíolfadh mo mháistir an ráithe so chughainn Is, a Dhia, nach aige siúd ’bheinn im scoláire.’ Do thógas ar láimh í go lána a bhí cúng, Ba ghairid ina dhéidh sin go raibh daorphuins dá thabhairt, Dob fhearr í chun glaoite ná éinne sa rúm Is do dhíol sí go humhal as a dtáinig.
Ar maidin amárach nuair a d’éirigh an drúcht Do scread sí is do liúigh sí ar a máithrín, Do fhliuch sí a cuid éadaigh le braonacha súl Is do mhóidigh go dtabharfainn an fán di, ’Riú, dúrtsa léi éisteacht is déanamh go ciúin Go raghainn ag díol eornan go hEochaill na long, Chuirfinn scataí breá caorach ar an aonach so chughainn, Is go bpósfainn í i Londain gan spleáchas.
Do ritheas an bóthar is an cóngar anonn Is ní bhfuaras in aon chúinne den tsráid é, Go dtánag go suarach fé thuairim a thí Is bhí ionadh ar na daoine cá dtánag, Dá mhéid mo chuid saothair ní dúirt sé liom suí, Ná, ‘Bain díot do chóta go n-ólfair braon dí’, Ach an seanduine stuacach ar fhuarma ina shuí Is gan ruainne ina phíb ach é cnáideach.
‘’Riú, cár ghaibh na stácaí ’bhí timpeall do thí? Nó cár ghaibh do chaoirigh le n-áireamh? Nó cár ghaibh an eorna ’bhí in Eochaill le díol? Nó cár ghaibh do bha ciardhubha is bána? Ó bhíos-sa chomh baoth is gur ghéilleas dod shlí Imeoidh an méid sin sa spéir leis an ngaoth, Ní phósfainn lem shaol thú dá dtéinn ar an bhflít Ach mairfidh mé choíche ar mo shnáthaid.’
'Your love I gave thee cages, a maiden, from the beginning From leagas my eye on for bhánchnis, is that I would be better than most of the gold butter phúits That would in Clúid in time mother can, would love to mhachaí there romhatsa a cow horseshoe is your day-treated bed net rum id thee, I would value buckles id coronary shoes as pounds, is, darling, or shall give your hand to me? '
'I would never put my hand never any order, as a story you there known in can time mother, she received your report that despicable originally That ólfá for shúsa house of the bartender, is that often, dear, you from crown to pound wearing for single young women without reputation is after selling a music man farthing id would phúits is the way you who would hand you. '
'Do creidse lies all held as rarely I go to the house of the pub, money is my pockets and bulk butter thrúnc is not spent ever pound on any present, will otherwise of business I in the autumn is to us, ' Harvesting potatoes gardens are taking stakes of a base, is my bhuaibh mhachaí full of white and black is not nobody but my mother two milking. '
'A man shop in Youghal that I find is a desire, is most likely to be those which would I prefer, A would sell my master the quarter this to us is God, not him those' I would have been a student. ' For I took over is that lane was narrow, was after me so short a daorphuins were both given, all was better than anyone calling it to the rum is sold humbly she came from.
Tomorrow morning when the dew was successful Your she screamed for her mother yelled at her, For she wet her clothes with eye drops is for this that I mhóidigh about it, 'them, making dúrtsa heard her quietly In go, sell barley to Youghal on the ship, I would love sheep groups arriving on this fair to us, is that it bpósfainn in london independently.
For ritheas the road and the near-over is not had in any corner of the street is, That dtánag poorly under the opinion that home is surprised at the people how dtánag, As far as my work have told me to sit, not, 'Take off your coat that drops ólfair drink ', but the hardness of fhuarma old man sitting is not a pipe but Fibre cnáideach.
'' Them, where did caught the stake 'was around your home? Or where did caught sheep for inclusion? Or where did caught the barley was in Youghal for sale? Or where did caught cow ciardhubha is white? From a quick look-in as ghéilleas thy foolish way is that departs so much in the sky with the wind, not marry you if my life dtéinn fleet But I never endure my needle. "
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