THE ROVIN' IRISH BOY.
Words by Wm. Carleton. Music by C. J. Mibbs.
I'm a rovin' Irish boy, I was christened Auckna-cloy;
With a turn o' the wrist my stick I twist, I am my mother's joy;
I've travelled many a mile to win a colleen's smile;
With a love o' my heart from them I'd part, and many an hour beguile,
But now I'm here to tell you all the places I have been,
And all the very funny things in my thravels I have seen.
For, I'm a rovin' Irish boy, I was christened Auckna-cloy;
With a turn o' the wrist my stick I twist,
And I'm my mother's joy. (Dance Garryowen.)
I've been to "La Belle France," where the girls know how to dance;
If I left the bogs, yet I couldn't ait frogs, tho' I've often had a chance;
Don't think that I am green, for, in Germany I've been.
Where sausages strong, and pretzels long, a yard or more I've seen.
Then to Roossia I have rushed, the land of furs and capes,
The men all make the women work, and the soldiers look like apes.-Cho.
To China thin I wint and got my heart's contint
Of the briny say, And wretched bad lay, enough to make me squint-
Japan then came in view-be my sowl I saw that, too;
But yellow Jack nigh broke my back, that's why I look so blue.
Then sailin' undher stars and stripes, I reached Colombia's shore.
And now I love the place so well, I'll never leave it more.
Except the cry will be: "Come, Paddy, Join with me.
And brave once more the Atlantic's roar, and make ould Ireland free."