Scoil: Breac-Cluain (C.) (uimhir rolla 16218)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. A Song

   “I am a poor rover this nation all over”

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   

   Níl tú logáilte isteach, ach tá fáilte romhat tras-scríobh a dhéanamh go hanaithnid. Sa chás seo, déanfar do sheoladh IP a stóráil ar mhaithe le rialú cáilíochta.

   I am a poor rover this nation all over I travelled most joyful my fortune to try To earn a living by cheerfully singing The praise of old Erin, and will, till a die, I was always as willing to spend a bright shilling As any a man living, a pint or a glass, Till at length I was taken for that very reason And lodged in the bridewell at Carraig maCross. I found myself handcuffed locked up in cold irons I knew it was through spite for my song, it was done, Said I "My dear fellow I'll soon have satisfaction and in a few minutes I'll show you some fun." I ran round the floor, and I kicked out the door, And upset the table being mad for a smoke, It was out of the fireplace I pulled a large bathbrick And I battered the windows to complete the joke. Away for the peelers the keepers soon started The lads quickly cantered with them in a trot: Like hounds in full chase till they came to the place

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   Sábháil Cealaigh

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