Anno Domini nostri sancti Jesu Christi

Nine hundred and ninetynine pound sterling in the black bowels of the bank of Ulster

Braw pennies, my girli girleen, and ^|1bright gold^1| pounds, by God, 'll ^|1deck prank^1| thee finely

And no damn lout'll come courting thee or by the Holy Ghost there'll be murder

—

O come all ye sweet nymphs of Dingle beach to ^|1see cheer^1| Brinabride ^|1a riding from Sybil ariding^1|

In her curragh of shells of daughter-of-pearl and her silverymoonblue mantle round her

^|1Bride Crown^1| of the ^|1brine waters, brine on her brow,^{1| |1}she is and will be she'll dance them a jilting jig ^|ablank early and jilt them fairly,^a|1|

Yerra, why would she bride with ^|1sir^1| Sloomysides of the or Mrs Cornwallis West Corn the gogram grey barnacle gander?

—

You'll not be lonesome, Lizzy my love, when your yank is ^|1gone the worst^1| for ^|1a his swank & his steel^1| soldiering

Nor ^|1shake wake^1| in winter, widow machree, for you'll have my old ^|1|aDundalk Balbriggan^a|1| surtout

Wisha, won't you agree ^|1now^1| to take me ^|1in for nothing at all^1| as your ^|1old own^1| nursetender

^|1Ten million A power of^{1| |1}men fine fellows^1| died ^|1ten in a ditch. game right enough.^{1| |1}but^1| Who lives for you?

I, Dougall, ^|1in on^1| Aran saw Black Iron night