School: An Clochar, Béal an Átha Móir (roll number 13614)

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1. Michael Dwyer (continued)

   

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   Place in my hand a musket, and lie upon the floor, I'll stand before the foeman, lay open wide the door,
   The'll pour into my bosom the fire of their array,
   And when their guns are empty, dash through them and away
   He stood before the foeman revealed amidst the flame out of their level pieces
   His wish for volley came, out sprang the three survivors for whom our hero died,
   But only Michael Dwyer broke through the ranks outside,
   He baffeled his pursuers, who followed like the wind,
   He swam the river Slaney, and he left them far behind,
   And many an English soldier he promised soon would fall
   For those, his gallant comrades, that died in wild Imal

   Funny story 23 rd. March 1938.
   A very, very long time ago, when Ireland was very rich, the streets were paved with twopenny loaves and the walls were lined with pancakes, and big fat pigs walked up and down the street with knives and forks stuck in their necks crying "Who'll eat me" "Who'll eat me."

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

   Language

   English

   Collector

   Margaret Darcy

   Gender

   Female

   Address

   Oughteragh, Co. Leitrim