Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Limerick Rake, artist - The Dubliners. Album song A Drop of the Hard Stuff, in the genre Кельтская музыка
Date of issue: 29.08.2019
Record label: Revolver
Song language: English
Limerick Rake |
I am a young fellow that’s easy and bold, |
In Castletown conners I’m very well known. |
In Newcastle West I spent many a note, |
With Kitty and Judy and Mary. |
My parents rebuked me for being such a rake, |
And spending my time in such frolicsome ways, |
But I ne’er could forget the good nature of Jane, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
My parents had reared me to shake and to mow, |
To plough and to harrow, to reap and to sow. |
Me heart being too airy to drop it so low, |
I set out on high speculation. |
On paper and parchment they taught me to write, |
In Euclid and Grammar they opened my eyes, |
And in Multiplication in truth I was bright, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
If I chance for to go to the town of Rathkeale, |
The girls all round me do flock on the square. |
Some offer me apple and others sweet cakes, |
and treats me unknown to their parents, |
There is one from Askeaton and one from the Pike, |
Another from Arda, my heart was beguiled, |
Tho' being from the mountains her stockings are white, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
To quarrel for riches I ne’er was inclined, |
For the greatest of misers must leave them behind. |
But I’ll purchase a cow that will never run dry, |
And I’ll milk her by twisting her horn. |
John Damer of Shronel had plenty of gold, |
And Lord Devonshire’s treasure is twenty times more, |
But he’s laid on his back among nettles and stones, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
This old cow can be milked without clover or grass, |
For she’s pampered with corn, sweet corn and hops. |
She’ll be warm, s he’ll be stout, she’ll be free in her paps, |
And she’ll milk without spancil or halter. |
The man that will drink it will cock his caubeen, |
And if anyone laughs there’ll be wigs on the green, |
And the feeble old hag will get supple and free, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
There’s some say I’m foolish and more say I’m wise, |
But being fond of the women I think is no crime, |
For the son of King David had ten hundred wives, |
And his wisdom was highly recorded. |
I’ll take a good garden and live at my ease, |
And each woman and child can partake of the same, |
If there’s war in the cabin, themselves they could blame, |
Agus fágaimíd siúd mar atá sé. |
But now for the future I think I’ll get wise, |
And I’ll marry all those women who acted so kind, |
Aye I’ll marry them all on the morrow by and by, |
If the clergy agreed to the bargain. |
And when I’ll be old and my soul be at rest, |
all those children and wives they could cry at my wake, |
And they all gathers round and they offers their prayers, |
To the Lord for the soul of their father. |