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HYLAND'9 MAMMOTH
NED OF THE HILL.
Dark is the evening, and silent the hour, Who is the minstrel by yonder lone tower? His harp ali so tenderly touching with skill; O, who should It be, but Ned of the HillT Who sings, "Lady love, come to me now, Come and live merrily under the bough,
And I'll pillow thy head
Where the fairies tread, I£ thou wilt but wed with Ned of the Hill!" Ned of the Hill has no castle nor hall, Nor spearmen nor bowmen to come at his call; But one little archer, of exquisite skill, Has shot a bright shaft for Ned of the Hill, Who sings, "Lady love, come to me now, Come and live merrily under the bough.
And I'll pillow thy head
Where the fairies tread. If thou wilt but wed with Ned of the Hill!" Tis hard to escape from that fair lady's bower. For high is the window, and guarded the tower; "But there's always a way where there is a will." So Ellen is off with Ned of the Hill! Who sings, "Lady love, thou art mine now! We will live merrily under the bough.
And I'll pillow thy head
Where the fairies tread, For Ellen Is wed to Ned of the Hill!" |
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THE TOWN OF PASSAGE.
The town of Passage
Is both large and spacious,
And situated
Upon the say; 'Tis nate and dacent, And quite adjacent, To come from Cork
On a summer's day. There you may slip in, To take a dippin' Forenent the shippln'
That at anchor ride; Or in a wherry Cross o'er the ferry To Carrigaloe
On the other side. Mud cabins swarm In This place so charmln' With sailors' garments
Hung out to dry; And each abode is Snug and commodious, With pigs melodious,
In their straw-built sty 'Tis there the turf Is, And lots of murphies. Dead sprats and herrings,
And oyster shells; Nor any lack, O! Of good tobacco. Though what is smuggled
By far excels. There are ships from Cadiz, And from Barbadoes, But the leading trade is
In whiskey punch; |
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