WILL YOU COME BACK HOME?
Will you come back home, where the young larks are
singin’?
The door is open wide, and the bells of Lynn are ringin’;
There’s a little lake I know,
And a boat you used to row
To the shore beyond that’s quiet—will you come back
home?
Will you come back, darlin’? Never heed the pain and
blightin’,
Never trouble that you’re wounded, that you bear the
scars of fightin’;
Here’s the luck o’ Heaven to you,
Here’s the hand of love will brew you
The cup of peace—ah, darlin’, will you come back
home?
MARY CALLAGHAN AND ME
It was as fine a churchful as you ever clapt an eye on;
Oh, the bells was ringin’ gaily, and the sun was shinin’
free;
There was singers, there was clargy—“Bless ye both,”
says Father Tryon—
They was weddin’ Mary Callaghan and me.
There was gatherin’ of women, there was hush upon the
stairway,
There was whisperin’ and smilin’, but it was no place
for me;
A little ship was comin’ into harbour through the
fairway—
It belongs to Mary Callaghan and me.
Shure, the longest day has endin’, and the wildest storm
has fallin’—
There’s a young gossoon in yander, and he sits upon
my knee;
There’s a churchful for the christenin’—do you hear
the imp a-callin’?
He’s the pride of Mary Callaghan and me.
KILDARE
He’s the man that killed Black Care,
He’s the pride of all Kildare;
Shure the devil takes his hat off whin he comes:
‘Tis the clargy bow before him,
‘Tis the women they adore him,
And the Lord Lieutenant orders out the drums—
For his hangin’, all the drums,
All the drums!