THE Leitrim lads can strike the ball, And sing and dance the whole night long, But Paddy Roe can beat them all At manly sports and dance and song. O, Paddy's equal ne'er was born To plough straight furrows up and down, Or reap a field of standing corn, Or sell his ewes in Sligo Town. And Paddy Roe's beyond compare For supple limbs and roguish eyes And curls of golden-coloured hair And soothering talk would win the wise. You girls of Cloon and Lissadill And Creevaghaun and Carnamoe, Come here to me by Carragh hill And look your fill on Paddy Roe! Small will your sweethearts seem to you, And crooked-limbed and shifty-eyed, But I'll not care what thing you do To tempt my lover from my side. For Paddy's sworn by lands and life To look no other woman's way, Till he and I are man and wife Before the priest on Easter-day. |