Ireland's Own

IF YOU FEEL LIKE SINGING, SING AN IRISH SONG

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WILD COLONIAL BOY

There was a wild colonial boy,

Jack Duggan was his name. He was born and reared in Ireland in a place called Castlemain­e.

He was his father’s only son, his

mother’s pride and joy.

And dearly did his parents love

the wild colonial boy.

At the early age of sixteen years

he left his native home

And to Australia’s sunny shores

he was inclined to roam He helped the poor he robbed the rich, their crops he would destroy

A terror to Australia was the

Wild Colonial Boy.

For two long years this daring

youth ran on his wild career With a heart that knew no danger

and a soul that felt no fear He held the Beechwood Coach up

and he robbed Judge McEvoy Who, trembling, gave his gold up

to the Wild Colonial Boy.

He bade the Judge ‘Good Morning’ and he told him to beware

For he never robbed an honest

judge who acted ‘on the square’ ‘Yet you would rob a mother of

her only pride and joy

And breed a race of outlaws like

the Wild Colonial Boy’.

One morning on the prairie while

Jack Duggan rode along

While listening to the mocking

bird a-singing out his song

Out jumped three troopers fierce and grim, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy

Were detailed for to capture him,

the Wild Colonial Boy.

‘Surrender now Jack Duggan,

you can see we’re three to one Surrender in our Queen’s name

for you are a plund’ring son’ Jack drew two pistols from his

belt and glared upon Fitzroy

‘I’ll fight but not surrender!’ cried

the Wild Colonial Boy.

He fired a shot at Kelly and he

brought him to the ground He fired a shot at Davis too, who

fell dead at the sound

But a bullet pierced his brave young heart form the pistol of Fitzroy

And that was how they captured

him, the Wild Colonial Boy.

I KNOW MY LOVE

I know my love by his way of

walking

I know my love by his way of

talking

I know my love dressed in his jer

sey blue,

And if my love leaves me what

will I do-o-o.

Chorus

And still she cried ‘I love him the

best

And a troubled mind sure it

knows no rest’

And still she cried ‘Bonny boys

are few,

And if my love leaves me what

will I do.’

There is a dance house down in

Mardyke;

’Tis there my true love goes every

night

He takes a strange girl upon his

knee;

And don’t you think now that

vexes me?

If my love knew I could was and

wring;

If my love knew I could weave

and spin

I’d make a suit of the finest kind; But the want of money leaves me

behind.

I know my love is an arrant

rover;

I know my love roams the wide

world over

In some foreign town he may

chance to tarry;

And some foreign maid he will

surely marry.

SKIBBEREEN

Oh father dear I often hear you

speak of Erin’s Isle.

Her lofty scenes, her valleys green her mountains rude and wild.

They say it is a lovely land where

in a prince might dwell.

Oh why did you abandon it the

reasons to me tell.

Oh son, I loved my native land

with energy and pride

Until a blight came o’er my crops;

my sheep and cattle died

My rent and taxes were so high I

could not them redeem

And that’s the cruel reason why I

left old Skibbereen.

It is so well I do recall that bleak

December day

The landlord and the sheriff

came to drive us all away

They set my roof on fire with

their cursed English spleen And that’s another reason why I

left old Skibbereen.

Your mother too, God rest her

soul, fell on the snowy ground Her treasured life’s possession­s

they lay trampled all around She never rose but passed away,

from life to mortal dream

And found a quiet resting place

in dear old Skibbereen.

And you were only two years old

and feeble was your frame I could not leave you with my friends; you bore your father’s name

I wrapped you in a blanket at the

dead of night unseen

I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye

to dear old Skibbereen.

Oh father dear the day will come

when vengeance loud will call All Irishmen with stem of faith

will rally one and all

I’ll be the man to lead the van

beneath the flag of green

And loud and high we’ll raise the

cry ‘Remember Skibbereen!’

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