The Twisting of the Rope
Source: The Stone Fiddle by Paddy Tunney
Location: New Edition, page 166
What seat can cure, or worse, did drive me to this place
And the girls I left behind refined and full of grace?
I went inside, with pride, all full of love and hope,
But the hag she forced me out with the twisting of the rope.
Chorus:
If you are mine, be mine, oh! bright love of my heart!
If you are mine be mine ‘till stars from heaven start.
If you are mine entwine your life as wife with me.
Your love with mine enshrine for all eternity.
I am drunk, more’s the shame and blame that’s blighting me
My friends would have my life or wife a witch on me.
Her crubach cows that browse arouse in me no hope.
They are bacán-bound and wound around with booragh rope.
Chorus
If the cate had dower each hour, a king would kiss its mouth,
But the other cat has foes and Arctic snow for scouth.
That shaking of the bag of hag last night was wed,
And how many fine girls waste for taste of man in bed.
Chorus
I can plough and hoe and mow, and sow seeds in the ground.
I can drive the cows where clover and green grass may be found.
I can shoe the noblest steed, fit mount for prince or Pope,
But the hag she drove me out with the twisting of the rope.
Chorus