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’S ag teacht ó theach an tórraimh dhom chuir mé eolas ar mo mhian, Mo chreach agus mo choróin dhe ní sa mbaile a chaith mé an oíche, Tá arraing ag gabháil thrasna thríom ’s ag cónaí i lár mo chroí, ’Gus, a stór, mura dté tú abhaile liom ní mhairfidh mé beo mí.
’S tháinig Tomás Bán ar cuairt agam is mé in uaigneas liom féin, Séard dúirt sé, ‘Ná bíodh buaireamh ort ná rud ar bith mar é, Sí do chúilín dualach a mharaigh mé is mar gheall ort a chrochfar mé, Is gur measa liom naoi n-uaire thú ná an mháithrín i mo dhéidh.’
Is a Thomáis Bháin, go cinnte is tú rún is searc mo chléibh, A Thomáis a dtug mé gean dhuit seachas feara óga an tsaoil, Óra, daorfar thú go cinnte mura bhfuil ag grásta Dé, Is a Chríost, nach mór an feall é ar phlanda breá mar é.
Is a chomharsana is a chomhairleacha ná tógaigí orm é, Mar chuaigh mé ag múineadh an eolais le stóirín gheal mo chléibh, Ní bhfuair mé ariamh droch-chomhairle uaidh go fóill ó rugadh mé, Is mura bhfeicfinn ach ag dul an bóithrín é go dtógfadh sé mo chroí.
Ní slad mainistir ná teampaill a rinne stór mo chroí, Ní feoil ná geir a shantaigh sé ná rud ar bith mar é, Ach mar gheall ar bhólach Stanley a chrochfar é mo léan, ’S an té a bhfuil gean ar Chlainne Gall aige, an ceann go gcaille sé.
Tá gardaí breá láidir ag teacht le stór mo chroí, Gearaltaigh Chluain Dálaigh agus airm óga an Rí, Beidh an Major óg Ó Conaill ann is Ó Ceallaigh as Cluain Bhuí, Dhá mbeadh triúr mar Chonaill óg agam, ní chrochfaí stór mo chroí.
Is a Thomáis Bháin Mhic Aogáin, sé mo léan thú dhul i gcill, Is cén t-iontas ann do mháithrín a bheith go brónach i do dhiaidh, Dá mbeifeá ar leaba an bháis aici níor chás dhi thú bheith tinn, Ach thú bheith crochta as na saltracha is an bháisteach le do dhroim.
And coming from the house wakes me I have knowledge of my desire, my ruin and my crown him not at home I spent the night, is arraing engaged thrasna drying and live in my heart, 'Gus, dear, may you go home if I live I will not survive the month.
In came Thomas White visiting me when I was lonely me, comprise said, 'Do not concern you or anything like it, s your locks Dualach I killed most about you erected me, is it worse to nine you hours than in my mother after me. '
The Thomas White, for sure you are secret true love of my heart, A Thomas, that I gave affection thee than grasses young life, Oops, condemned you for sure if there is a grace of God, as Christ, treachery is on plant it perfectly.
As neighbors to advisory or Take me is, as I went to teach the information to Sweetheart bright my heart, I have not always bad advice from him yet since I was born, as if I should find but getting the lane is to take My heart.
Not kill monastery or church did, my heart, not meat or fat unnatural it or anything like it, But because bhólach Stanley erected my sorrow, And he who has affection for the children of foreigners it, the that it gcaille.
Love is strong guards come, my heart, Fitzgeralds Cloyne young arms Daly and King, The Major young O'Connell from there Kelly Yellow Deception, Two young Donegal three as would I, not mounted, my heart.
The Thomas White McEgan, my sorrow you are going in a cell, is what surprises your mother be sadly behind, If you were a bed of death she no case kinder you are ill, But you have hanging off the most rain saltracha with your back.
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