I'll not forget my early friends,
Nor honest Caoch O'Leary.
Poor Caoch and Pinch slept well that night,
And in the morning early
He called me up to hear him play
"The wind that shakes the barley."
And then he stroked my flaxen hair,
And cried, "God mark my deary!"
And how I wept when he said, "Farewell,
And think of Caoch O'Leary!"