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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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NOW CAN'T YOU BE AISY.
Oh! what stories I'll tell when my aojering's o'er,
And the gallant Fourteenth is disbanded; Not a drili nor parade will 1 hear of no more,
When safely in Ireland I'm landed. With the blood that I spilt—the Frenchmen I kilt,
I'll drive all the girls half crazy; And some 'cute one will cry, with a wink of her eye,
"Mr. Free, now—why can't you be aisy?" I'll tell how we routed the squadrons in fight,
And destroyed them all at "Talavera," And then I'll just add how we finished the night,
In learning to dance the "Bolero;" How by the moonshine we drank raal wine,
And rose next day fresh as a daisy; Then some one will cry, with a look mighty sly,
"Arrah, Mickey—now can't you be aisy?" I'll tell how the nights with Sir Arthur we spent,
Around a big Are in the air, too. Or may be enjoying ourselves in a tent,
Exactly like Donnybrook fair, too; How he'd call out to me, "Pass the wine, Mr. Free,
For you're a man never is lazy!" Then some one will cry, with a wink of her eye,
"Arrah, Mickey, dear—can't you be aisy?" I'll tell, too, the longs years in fighting we passed,
Till Mounseer asked Bony to lead him; And Sir Arthur, grown tired of glory at last,
Begged of one Mickey Free to succeed him. But, "acushla," says I, "the truth is, I'm shy!
There's a lady in Ballynacrazy! And I swore on the book—" she gave me a look,
And cried, "Mickey—now can't you be aisy?" |
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I DREAMED THAT OLD IRELAND WAS FREE.
One night as I slumbered in sweet, peaceful rest,
Tired out from a long day of toil, My thoughts, like a bird, over the ocean's white crest,
Wandered back to my own native soil; But a great change had come since the time when a boy,
I played 'round my old mother's knee, And my heart seemed to leap in my bosom with joy,
For I dreamed that old Ireland was free. Chorus.—The days of her freedom at last had a word, The time that we all long to see; For which our great ancestors nobly had strove— I dreamed that old Ireland was free. I thought the chains that had bound her were broke,
And the dear little isle of my birth At last from her slumbers of years had awoke,
And again was a power on earth; The green flag of Erin was proudly unfurled
Over the emerald Isle of the sea, And loudly announced to the wondering world,
At last dear old Ireland was free.
The days of her freedom, etc. I awoke and found that 'twas only a dfeam,
A dream that bad fled with the night, For when through the window the morning sunbeam
Shone in my visions took flight; I sank on my knees by my bedside to pray,
That the time may not far distant be When my vision shall come in the broad light of day.
And will welcome old Ireland free.
The days of her freedom, etc. |
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