SONGS.
THE YORKSHIRE IRISHMAN.
My father was once a great merchant,
- As any in Ireland is found;
But faith! He cold ne'er save a shilling,
- Though tatoes he sold by the pound.
So says he to my mother one night,
- To England suppose you and I go;
And the very next day by moonlight
- They took leave of the county Sligo.
- Sing, fal de ral lal de ral la fal la de, &c.
That the land is all covered with water,
- 'Twixt England and Ireland you'll own,
And single misfortuntes, they say,
- To an Irishman ne'er came alone:
So my father, poor man, was first drowned,
- Then shipwreck'd in sailing from Cork;
But my mother she got safe to land,
- And a whisky shop owned in York.
- Sing, fal de ral, &c.
Just a year after father was dead,
- One night about five in the morn,
An odd accident happen'd to me,
- For 'twas then that myself was first born:
