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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 417 |
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We draw neighbor wid neighbor From the heat of the sun to the shilter of the tree, Wid spuds x fresh from the bilin' And new milk you come smilin', All the boys' hearts beguilin', Alanna machree !a Oh, where, etc. |
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But there's one sweeter hour,
When the hot day is o'er, And we rest at the door wid the bright moon above,
And she stain' in the middle,
When she's guessed Larry's riddle, Cries, " Now for your fiddle, my love, my love." Oh, where, etc. |
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THE SHAN VAN VOCHT8
O
H ! the French are on the sea, Says the Shan Van Vocht j The French are on the sea,
Says the Shan Van Vocht; Oh ! the French are in the Bay, They'll be here without delay, And the Orange will decay, Says the Shan Van Vocht.
1" Spuds," potatoes.
2 " Alanna machree," my heart's darling.
3 Shan Van Vocht, " The Poor Old Woman "—a name for Ireland. This was written in 1796, when the French fleet arrived in Bantry Bay. |
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