I PS 593 
 .L9 fl3 
 
 Orer 50 Sonffs. 
 
 C-n- rJg t 1878 by A. 
 
 CONTENTS OF SONG LIBRARY NUMBER THREE. 
 
 An Irishman's Ramble- 
 
 A Cra Cal Machree 
 
 Are You There, Wloriar- 
 
 ity 
 
 Cruiskeen Lawn 
 
 Delia's Young Man 
 
 Dandy Pat 
 
 Erin, My Country 
 
 Farewell, My Avour- 
 
 neen 
 
 Fenian's Escape 
 
 Good Bye, Biddy D^ar- 
 Cal by the Name of IWc- 
 
 Cee 
 
 Cod Bless You, Colleen- 
 Hildebrandt McCuffin- 
 
 I'm Tould you Carry a 
 
 Pop ....- 3 
 
 I'm the Boy from Done- 
 gal 4 
 
 Irish Exile (Sketch) 9 
 
 I Say, Lads, Have You 
 
 Seen My Molly 13 
 
 Kathleen Mavourneen-- 3 
 
 Killarney ■■■ 14 
 
 Kitty Tyrell 12 
 
 Mary O'Moore 7 
 
 Mike McCann ••• 5 
 
 Mary Avourneen 5 
 
 McCowan's Wedding .' 12 
 
 Norah O'Neill .. 14 
 
 Ndrah, The Pride of 
 Kildare 8 
 
 None can Lov like an 
 
 Irishman 
 
 Norah McShane 
 
 O'Reilly, you're N. C- • 
 
 Oh ! Bay of Dublin I 
 
 Our Native Land so 
 
 Green 
 
 Our Ould Irish Home.-- I 
 
 Pretty Peggy 
 
 Paddy's Land I 
 
 Poor Old Mike 
 
 Perfection (Music) 
 
 Rose of Erin I 
 
 Since Mary Ann Learn- 
 ed to Dance 
 
 Swate Castle Garden--- 
 
 Sligo Musketeers ■•- ,. 
 
 Sweet Potteen ^ 
 
 St. Patrick's Day I 
 
 Send Back My Barney 
 
 to Me - 4 
 
 Shamus O'Brien--^.. 12 
 
 Since Terry first joined 
 
 the Gang •-•^- 13 
 
 Tim Flaherty^ 4 
 
 That's What Gives You 
 
 Away-- 5 
 
 The Way I/Marched IS 
 
 Van Diem'an's Land '1 
 
 Wearing of the Green. 
 Wske not that Hari' 
 
 / again 
 
 Will She 
 
 Her ■ 
 
 You wou ' 
 
 Your Kc 
 
 let 
 
 A.. J. FISHER, Publisher, No. 98 Nassau Street, 
 
y^ 
 
 2 IF^ISECEI^^'S S03SrC3- XjIBK>^E.ir. 
 
 
 PEETTY PEGGY. 
 
 O'REiLT, YOU'RE N. a. 
 
 ! 
 
 miSH SONG WITH DANCE.— By Pat Eooney. 
 
 [Copyright Secured, 1875, by Pat Rooirai.l 
 
 
 K'-'»sic Pub. by Louia P. Gouixatjd, Boston, Mas3. Price 35 cents* 
 
 «»«;,' irith great success at the Olympic Theatre, S 
 Written by Harbt Bekhtt 
 
 ? 
 
 To my darling I will always prove true, 
 
 Kind friends if you will listen now, 
 
 
 And look on her witli a smile of love ; 
 
 My woes I'll now tell you ; 
 
 
 X'like a sunbeam she's beautiful and bright, 
 
 My heart is nearly broken, 
 
 
 With eyes like the little stars above. 
 
 And I don't know what to do ; 
 
 
 Choetjs, 
 
 No matter where I chance to go. 
 Nor wherever I may be. 
 
 
 She's the fairggfrfn all creation, 
 Prettyp«^y, charming creature, 
 
 The blackguards cry as I pass by, 
 
 
 Pretjty^ggy, darling loved one, 
 
 O'Keily, you're N. G. 
 
 \ 
 
 ^--^hh ! she's like a little bird in the spring. 
 
 If I go into a tavern, 
 And call out for a boos, 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 ^^ When you're in her company for a while, 
 
 The gang says I must treat them 
 
 
 - ^ Just look at her curly j et black hair ! 
 
 Or their frendship I will lose ; 
 
 
 Her face is always brightened with a smile, 
 
 And if I do refuse them, 
 
 
 Faith, none with my jewel can compare. 
 
 She's the fairest, ka. 
 
 Their heads they shake at me. 
 And sing out Philadelphia— 
 O'Keily, you are N. G. 
 
 ' 
 
 The day is coming when I'll wed this pearl. 
 
 
 i 
 
 The thought of it cheers me on my vray; 
 The bells will ring, and the colleens will sing. 
 
 It was just before election 
 
 
 When she names the happy wedding day. 
 
 I was called to make a speech. 
 For a friend of mine , 
 
 
 Choeus. 
 
 Whose name was Thomas Lich ; 
 
 j 
 
 She is the fairest in all creation. 
 
 The gang was there, I do declare. 
 
 
 Pretty Pegg}', charming creature; 
 
 And when I did begin, 
 
 
 Pretty Peggy, darling loved one. 
 
 ' They said, for God's sake, fire him oti': • 
 
 
 Ah ! she's like a little bird in the spring. 
 
 Where did he get his wind ? 
 
 1 
 
 ■■ j)p..1CS. 1 
 
 I couldn't speak a word at all, 
 'Xhey made such a terrible noise ; 
 
 i 
 
 : : 
 
 And all at once I felt a brick 
 Hit me between the eyes. 
 
 
 YOU WOULD NOT LEAVE YOUR NORAH? 
 
 And through the door I fled, for sura j " 
 
 1 
 
 A^ ^fe^OU would uot leave your Noriih. 
 fj«r§ '^° P'"*^ '''""^ bciiind, 
 [^^^ The wide, wide world before hoc- 
 
 Sure they meant to murder me, 
 
 i 
 
 And when I was outside 
 
 
 ■ And no one to be kind. 
 
 
 
 Tlie times are hard and tryins, 
 
 I heard them cry. 
 
 
 But, Dennis, perhaps they'll mend, 
 Ton would not leave your K'orah, 
 
 O'Reily, you are N. G. 
 
 
 You yet may want a friend." 
 
 
 
 caoRDS. 
 
 The slang the gang is using now, 
 
 j 
 
 " You would not leave your Norah, 
 To pine alone behind, 
 
 You'll hear from every lip ; . 
 
 i 
 
 The wide, wide world behind her. 
 
 Its shoot the hat ! and get it boiled ; 
 
 
 And no one to be kind." 
 
 And don't you lose your grip ! 
 
 1 
 
 s.^ '■ Ye.", Norah, dear, I am going, 
 
 They say I'm too fresh, and too bran new. 
 
 
 j\ And yet it breaks my heart. 
 To sec your eyes are Hewing 
 
 And will I ever drop, and stag his nips, 
 
 
 ->^ With tears because we part. 
 \ 'Tis sad to leave old Erin, 
 \ A stranger's home to share; 
 
 And skip the gutter, and hit him with a p ip 
 
 
 The children there are using the slang. 
 
 
 xBut sadder still, I'm fearing, 
 
 
 
 XWlthnone to love me there." 
 
 As well as every one. 
 
 
 ! ' '^ You would not, ol.c 
 
 They'll say to me, go take a bath ! 
 
 1 
 
 "Then, Dennis, take me with you 
 
 And whj' don't I take a run ? 
 
 
 You know not half I do; 
 
 And then they'll say, 
 
 
 -: '-erc's no one to forbid you. 
 
 ' 
 
 
 _ i - saved.a pound or two. 
 
 Go stop the coat, so long as Tra la la les ■; 
 
 
 ru B. he you in every sorrow-. 
 1! Prs. 'le pYiest you tell. 
 
 But the worst of all 
 
 1 
 
 Ye^, Morfik, '''ar,, to-morrow, 
 Thca Erir . -t^ thee ivell." 
 
 Is when they bawl — 
 
 
 I could not, etc 
 
 ! Eooney, you're N. G. 
 
 1 
 
iriSH:Ei?.'S soisTG IjIbi?>^i^y. 
 
 Since Mary Ann learned How to Dance 
 the Tra-la-la-loo ! 
 
 Written I Habbt Bennett, expressly for Pat Koons 
 only, under whose name it is Copyrighted, 1875. 
 
 My name is John MeGuokin, I'm a daeent working man, 
 I tries to raise my children up the very best I can ; 
 Bnt with my daughter Mary Ann I don't know wlmt to do. 
 For she's learned a kind of dancing that the.v call the 
 Tra-la-la-loo f 
 
 Chobds. 
 
 Since Mary Ann learned how to dance, 
 
 I don't know what to do ; 
 She's out all night 'till broad daylight, 
 
 A dancing the Tra-la-la-loo ! 
 
 On erery moonlight pic-nio sure my daughter can be founrl. 
 And when I bid her stay at home she says, 'Go feel around ;" 
 And on starlight excitraions, where the band plays Flewy- 
 
 come-fiew, 
 'Tis there I'll find my Mary Ann a skipping the Tra-la-la-lool 
 Since Mary Ann, &c. 
 
 Bad luck to moonlight pio-nics, they have ruined Mary Ann, 
 
 Since first she learned to pivot with young Terry and his 
 
 gang ; 
 
 But if I find her there again I'll beat her black and blu-e — 
 
 She's gone to the divU intirely, since she learned the 
 
 Tra-la-la-loo ! 
 
 Since Mary Ann, &0. 
 
 4^. 
 
 .^ 
 
 V^ 
 
 Fare^well Mary Avorneen, 
 
 jjla^y Mary Avorneen, 'tis now we must part, 
 ^^^ Be strong dear acushla don't let the tears 
 
 start. 
 ( go to the strife both nravely and true, 
 Desure MoUie darling I'll ever love you. 
 I'he thought of your Iotc will gladeu my heart, 
 tVnd make your own Shamus bear bravely bis 
 
 part. 
 A-h Mary Avorneen, 'tis now we must part, 
 Be strong dear acushla don't lot the tears start. 
 
 My Mary Avorneen, it is not for gold, 
 I'd leave you alone — my heart's not so cold ; 
 But rather for right and Old Ireland's sake, 
 I'hj boy of Glengall will make tyrant's quake ; 
 I'he raaidsof dear Erin, "God bless thum" and 
 
 all— 
 Their prayers Mollie ask for the boy of Glen- 
 gall. 
 
 Then farewell ray Mary, oh yes we must part, 
 Ge strong dear acushla don't let the tears start. 
 Love Mary Avorneen, I now have left tlKO, 
 To make dear old Ireland a laml cf •'■ - 
 Here's that we may live to hear the words said- 
 Old Ireland's green i ow waves o'er the red. 
 The Harp of Old Erin her strings shall renew 
 The "Ever Green Flag" and the "Red, White and 
 
 Blue" 
 Must wave to all nations from staff, ma=t and tree, 
 As c mblems of nations who boant to be free 
 
 
 I'M TOULD YOU GARRY A POP.^ 
 
 ICopyright,, 1875, by Pat Rodney.] 
 
 Written by Haekt Bennett, expressly for Pat Eoonei, 
 i.nd sung with great success by him at the Olympic Theatra 
 
 My name is Pat McAlister, in the Fourth Ward I belong ; 
 I am no politician, though rny princijiles are strong. 
 I like this City well enough, but here I cannot stop ; 
 Go where I may, they're sure to say, I'm tould you carry a 
 pop. 
 
 Chokus. 
 
 The blackguards do make fun of me. 
 
 And when I bid them stojj. 
 They say. now " cheese it," Old Times Bocks. 
 
 I'm tould you carry a pop. 
 
 I don't know what they maue at all, they think that they 
 
 are smart ; 
 
 They say to me, go hire a hall, and tell me I'm too tart ; 
 
 They teU me to go boTince myself, and call me old boy crop, 
 
 Bnt divil a word like this I've heard, I'm tould you carry 
 
 a pop. 
 
 The blackguards, <feo. 
 
 They call me tough man, and they say I carry a spoon in 
 
 my boot ; 
 They howl from every comer, stag the pigeon-toed galnte. 
 And when I walk along the street they call me lifty-go-hop, 
 And crack it light, ould coffin back, I'm tould you carry 
 
 a. pop. 
 
 KATHLEEH MAVOUKNEEN. 
 
 A POPULAR lEISII BALLiu-J. 
 
 '^^athleen Mavoumeen! the gi'sy dawii :.o 
 
 (^^ breaking, 
 
 'The horn of the hunter is heard on the bill, 
 
 The lark from he;: light wiiig ths blight deWiS 
 
 shakiDg, 
 Kathleen Mavouj'neen, what slurabring stil] I , 
 Ah ! hast ihou forgotten soon we must sever? 
 
 Oh ! hast thou forgotten this day ! we must part) 
 It may be for years, and it may be forever, 
 Oh ! why art thoii silent, thou voice of my hex^'j 
 It may be for years, and it may be forever. 
 Then why aii ihou silenv, Kathleen Mavomv 
 neen. 
 
 Kathleen MaTotirneen awake from tiiy sluniben 
 The blue mcunjaiiis glow in ths sun's gcldsa 
 
 light, 
 Ah ! where la the spell Ohat once hung on si/ 
 
 numbers, , 
 
 Arise in thy beaatj thou gt.ir of my night, 
 Arise in thy beauty tliou star of my n-ght. 
 
 Mavourneen, Mavourneen, my sad tears era 
 
 falling 
 To think that from Erin .ind thee I must pari, 
 It may be for years and it may be forever 
 Then why art thou silent.thou voice of my heart 
 It may be for years, and it may be fcrsver, 
 Then why rr*; thou silent, Kathleoa Max^ou:: 
 
 neen 
 
:pisi3:ei?.'s soitg- libi^^i^y. 
 
 TIM FLAHERTY. 
 
 [Copyright, 1872, by John Oh0«ch & Co.] 
 Sung with great success by Pat Eoonet. 
 
 I'm a lighthearted Paddy, a rale Irish laddy, 
 
 I went to America strange wonders to say ; 
 I sailed from dear Cork for the port of New York, 
 
 I was eighteen long days a crossing the say. 
 When I arrived in the land I was tuck by the hand 
 
 By a blaggaxd who said, "Paddy, come go v.i.u me, 
 And I will show you the city, the sights are so pretty. " 
 
 He says, "What's your name ?" says I ' ' Tim Flaherty.' 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 I'm Tim Flaherty, arah, gaze upon me ; 
 A lighthearted Paddy is Tim Flaherty. 
 
 Ha showed me around, the sights were soon found, 
 
 I viewed them with wonder and astonishment : 
 When he bade me good-bye, tears came in my eye, 
 
 I found he'd been through me, and took iv'ry cint, 
 What to do I didn't know, where was I to go ; 
 
 So I wint to the Coort, and explained to the Judga 
 He called me a pauper, a vagrant and loafer. 
 
 And gave me six months in the Island above. 
 
 I'm Tim Flaherty, &c. 
 
 So I shouldered my bundle, and homeward I wandered, 
 
 Ould Erin forever, oh, she is my joy ! 
 It's here I'm at home, and never will roam. 
 
 For she's good enough for a rale Irish boy. 
 Sure, there's whiskey galore, just here by the door. 
 
 And beauties you ne'er can find afar o'er the say 
 And the girls are so pretty, so nate and so witty, 
 
 And that's just what suits the lad, Tim Flaherty. 
 
 I'm Tim Flaherty, &c- 
 
 I'M THE BOY FROM DONEGAL. 
 
 Copyright secxired, 1876, by A. J. TiaHEB. 
 
 Written by Habbt Benkett. Sung with immense success 
 
 by Pat Koonev. 
 
 Good evening, to ye , Gents and Ladies, 
 
 I've come to make a little call ; 
 I'm descended from the great O'Grady's, 
 
 The best you'll find in Donegal. 
 A year ago I took the notion 
 
 To sail across the briny deep ; 
 The sea was in a great commotiori, 
 
 I could'nt get a wink of sleep. 
 
 Choeds. 
 
 They call me roaming Mick O'Brien, 
 I'll fight 'till I'm pushed to the wall, 
 
 The young girls they were all a crying 
 When I came from old Donegal. 
 
 Sure I was known throughout the country, 
 
 And devil the one with me could dance ; 
 I was the first in every nation — 
 
 And drunk when I had the chance ; 
 I used to drive the women crazy. 
 
 So nimbly I could shake my feet ; 
 They never found me slow or lazy. 
 
 At jigging I could not be beat, 
 r They call me roaming Mick, &c. 
 
 Send back my Barney to Me. 
 
 Hie is gone; and I'm now sad and lonely, 
 ^^ He has left me to cross the wide sea, 
 But I know that he thinks of me only. 
 
 All I will soon be returning to me. 
 His eyes were filled with devotion, 
 
 As ray husband lie s.iid he'd soon be : 
 Then blow gently, je winds of the ocean, 
 And send back my Barney to me. 
 
 If at night as I rest on ray pillow, 
 
 The wind heaves a raoan and sigh 
 I think of each angry billow, 
 
 And ivatcli evei'y claud o'er the sky. 
 My bosom it fills with emotion. 
 
 As I pray for one over the sea ; 
 Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean, 
 
 And send back my Barney to mc. 
 
 He has left me his fortune to better, 
 
 I know that he went for my sake ; 
 Soon I'll he receiving a letter, 
 
 If not, sure my poor heart will break. 
 To say that he'll soon be returning, 
 
 To his dear native Ireland and me. 
 Then blow gently, ye winds of the ocean, 
 
 Andsoad back my Barney to me. 
 
 Our Native Land is Greea 
 
 fe,¥'E'RE what yees call green horns. 
 ^^ We're only just landed 
 From the City of Dublin, 
 
 Afar over the sea; 
 Though to be called green. 
 We will not stand it, 
 Tho' foolisli we look 
 We know all your ways. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Tho' our native land 'tis greeti. 
 Oh, that's no reason why. 
 
 That we should be called the saaia 
 Remember that, me boya, 
 
 »Twas not want, nor starvatiOu^ 
 That brought us amongst yo".;^ 
 As from our appearances 
 
 That you can see. 
 For at home we had plentj, 
 'Tis Um truth that I tells yees. 
 
 But we lon2ed for to see. 
 
 This land of the free. 
 
 Tho' our nativa iixi 
 
■FissiEi^.'s soisrc3- XjXb:e^a:e^.y 
 
 MIKE McO ANN. THE ALDERMAN, 
 
 Copyright secured, 1876, by A. J. Fisheb. 
 As Sung with unbounded applause, by Pat Kooney, at 
 the Olympic Theatre. 
 All the trials and troubles— 
 
 To you I -will relate — 
 That I have had to undergo 
 
 Through being a candidate •, 
 I always lived a quiet life. 
 Until one Mike McCann, 
 He came to me, and says, Duffie, 
 Xou must run for Alderman. 
 Chobtts. 
 'Twas in the 7th Ward below, 
 In a neighborhood they call Cork B."-" ; 
 ■\Vhere the boys of me made a holy show. 
 When I ran for Alderman. 
 It -was in McCann's back room, 
 
 That night they nominated me ; 
 I axed the boys to have a drink, 
 
 As they gave me three times three ; 
 They drank and smoked, they smoked ap'^ di'ank, 
 
 'Till drunk was every man ; 
 Twas all at the expense 
 
 Of poor Pat Duffle, the Alderman. 
 
 'Twas in the. &c. 
 But when election day it came, 
 
 I found out very soon, 
 The boys had all gone back on me, 
 
 And were voting for Muldoon ; 
 And when I axed the raison why— 
 
 To laugh, they all began — 
 Saying, we don't want no Tarrier, 
 
 For to be our Alderman. 
 
 Twas in the «c. 
 
 .* MARY AVOURNEEN, -^ 
 
 iPKjpary ! dear mary ! I've come back to thee, 
 ^^i^ButcoId is the welcome you now give to the 
 's there nought then in parting, or nought in long 
 
 years ; 
 Is there nought in the absence I've mourn d too 
 
 with tears ? 
 For the gold of the stranger I left thee in pain, — 
 For the jewel of hope I have come back af.ain ! 
 But 'tis only to meet, like a dew drop from high 
 With the sunbeam it lov'd, then heart-broken 
 
 to die 
 
 Oh ! Mary 1 dear Mary ! I've come back to thee. 
 Oh I give then Avourneen ! kind welcome to me. 
 Mary ! dear Mary ! Oh ! turn not away ; 
 Sure I 'tis joking you are in the sunshine to day. 
 Yet now 'twould be pleasant to meet with a smile 
 To shew you were laughing, and loving the while, 
 Oh I let me not lose all my dreams of the past, 
 The hope of the future where joy too is cast. 
 Let thy love be my lamp, and I'll worship Iislighl 
 'Till the heart it lUum d be hush'd in dark night. 
 Oh ! Mary ! dear Mary I &c. 
 
 That's What Gives You Away, 
 
 Oopyright secured, 1876, by A. J. Fisheb. 
 
 Written by Habey Benottt. Sung with great applause 
 
 by Pat Ko6ney. 
 
 When I landed in America, I settled in New York, 
 And wandered up and down the streets a trying to get work. 
 But eveiy place that I'd inquire, oh this is what they'd say, 
 For heaven's sake take that dicer off, for that is what gives 
 you away. 
 
 Choeus. 
 
 Go where I may, roam where I will, 
 
 The blackguards they do say- 
 Oh ! Take that dicer out of the draft, 
 
 For that is what gives you away. 
 
 I walked the streets from mom 'till night, my heart was 
 
 sore distressed ; 
 And whin I'd ask for woik they'd say, oh, go, pull down 
 
 your vest! [key pray ; 
 
 Thev said go on to the platform and with Moody and San 
 And" get those peg tops taken in, for that is what gives you 
 
 away. 
 
 Go where I may- &c. 
 
 1 went into an eating-hou«e to get a bit of bread, 
 The -waiter called me Jimmy Lush and put me on my Wd, 
 I axed the Mayor for a job and to me be did say- 
 Yond better get another face, for that one gives you away. 
 
 Chokcs. 
 They say, have you time to carry a trunk? 
 
 How long are you going to stay ? 
 And get those side-boards taken off, quick, 
 
 For that is what gives you away. 
 
 M 
 
 JPOOR OLD MIKE. 
 
 As sung by Gus Williams. 
 
 was reared in Doncaster, 
 ©IJo' Sume forty years ago. 
 But times are very different 
 
 As many of you know ; 
 I've had my share of sunshine, 
 
 Of course I can't complain, 
 But the good old days have jjassed away, 
 And they'll never come again. 
 Poor old mike. 
 
 For now I'm growing old, 
 
 And my age it does decay, 
 A poor old, worn out stableman, 
 
 Every one does say, 
 
 Poor old Mike 1 poor old Mike ! 
 
 When I was rising six years old, 
 
 They first put mo across ; 
 One of Lord Derby's favorites, 
 
 For a trial round the course ; 
 So firm and neat I kept my seat, 
 
 The knowing-ones they stared. 
 As I rattled in from a two mile spin, 
 
 Every one declared — 
 
 ■' 'Twas clever little Mike I" 
 
 But now, 
 Then 1 was made a Jockey, 
 
 It suited well my taste, 
 A handy chap at a handicap; 
 
 Smart at a steeple chase. 
 East, west, north, or south, 
 
IF I SHE I?.' s so^sro- JL,x-B:5tJ^:ELir. 
 
 GOOD-BYE, BIDDY DEAE. 
 
 A3 sung by Johnny Roicn. 
 
 HERE I am an Irish boy, 
 
 Who is always fond of niirtli, 
 And show me the creaure 
 
 Who would slight me for my Uirlli, 
 
 And I have a neat coleen, 
 In Dublin far behind, — 
 
 I always was a broth of a boy. 
 And my coleen she is blind. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Good-bye, Biddy dear, 
 
 It's hard to part from you, 
 Although I am going to leave yea. 
 
 Me heart it will prove true, 
 Then cheer me, vourneen, 
 
 And don't look so forlorn, 
 The harvest time is coming 
 
 And I'm off to sheer the corn. 
 
 I wouldn't have left Ireland, 
 
 But times were hard, you know, 
 To see the starving creatures, 
 
 It would bre.ik the heart of stone, 
 I bundled up wy kit, 
 
 While Biddy wept and sigh'd, 
 And a; the vessel left the dock, 
 
 I step'd on b^ard and cried, — 
 
 Chorus. — Good-bye, Biddy aeat, Sn, 
 
 Swate Castle Garden. 
 
 As sung by Gus Williams. 
 ^jfs^^hen I landed in sweet Castle Garden, 
 [^^^ I just come from off the big say ; 
 In me pooket I hadn't a faren 
 
 Y,".-.sii ; lapped out upon the Broadway. 
 ] staped upon to a lamplihter, 
 
 The mistery tor to unravel, but his hair 
 Was cut li'ie a prize fighter, 
 
 So I shouldered my trunk and travelled. 
 
 Chorus. — So hurra for the stars and stripes, 
 
 And the land where we never see 
 
 jobs 
 ]f I hadn't come here 
 I'd be digging turf in thfe bogs. 
 
 The road it wus durty and slippery, 
 
 Till I came to the street they called WaH^ 
 When the blaguards cauUed out, there goe» 
 
 Croppy, till I came to the big city ball. 
 1 axed a dutch puddler the way, 
 
 And the answered me, thunder an4 
 blitzen ! 
 Judge Connoly lepped out to meself 
 
 Aud made me an American citizen. 
 So hurra, etc. 
 
 HILDEEBRANT McaUFFIN. 
 
 Written and sung by John D. Gsxsm!. the Popular Irish 
 
 Comedian. 
 
 Here I am, an Irishman, 
 
 As you can plainly see ; 
 I just came over from Ireland, 
 
 From the county of Tralle. 
 When I landed in Castle Garden, 
 
 On America's soil to tread, 
 1 was met by a fair haired maiden. 
 
 And this is what she said — 
 
 Geobus. 
 
 Tra-la la ! Tra-lale ! I'll meet you pet, 
 
 I'll meet you in the Park when the weather it is wet ; 
 
 I'U strike you with a Turkey-leg, I'll smother you with tha 
 
 stuffing ; 
 For the darling of the ladies is Hilderbrant MeGuffin. 
 
 Oh ! when I was married about a year, 
 
 I found to my great joy. 
 My wife she made me a present 
 
 Of a darling, bouncing boy ; 
 And when at night he'd holler for his Paregoric, 
 
 Or any such thing. 
 My wife she'd dance him up and down. 
 
 And this is what she'd sing — 
 
 Tra la la, &C 
 
 THE WEARING OF THE GREEN. 
 ^g|i KITTY, did you he.ir the news thafp 
 
 ill) 
 
 gone round, 
 The Shamrock is by law forbid to grow 
 on Irish ground ; 
 No man St. Patrick's day shaU keep, their coL 
 
 ors d.ire not be seen, 
 For there's a bloody law against the wearing 
 of the green. 
 
 i met with Nepper Dandy, he took me by tha 
 
 hand, 
 He .isked me how old Ireland was, and how 
 
 did it stand. 
 It's the most distressed country that ever yet 
 
 was seen. 
 For they're hanging men .and women, for the 
 
 wearing of the green. 
 
 Then if the color we must wear, by England'* 
 
 cruel red, 
 Let it remind us of all the blood that Ireland 
 
 has shed. 
 Then pluck the Shamrock from your hat, and 
 
 throw it on the sod. 
 For never fear it will grow there, though un^ 
 
 der foot it's tord. 
 
 When the law can stop the blades of grass from 
 
 growing as they grow. 
 When the flowers of the summer time their 
 
 colors do not show : 
 Then I will change the colors I wore in my ca- 
 
 been, 
 But until that day, please God, I'll stick 
 
 a-wearing of the green. 
 
:FISmi!Z?.'S SOISTG- LTBK.^I^Y. 
 
 VAN DIEMAN'S LAND. 
 
 As Sung by Wm Majoe. 
 
 Come all you lads of learning and rambling boys, beware, 
 Whenever you go a hunting bring your dogs gun and snare, 
 For those lofty hills and valleys we have at our command, 
 Not thinking of the last farewell going to Van Dieman's 
 land. 
 
 There were three men from Galway town, Martin, Luke, 
 and James, 
 
 They were three loyal comrades their countrymen they 
 formed. 
 
 An .1 it's there they were transported by the keepers of tht 
 strand. 
 
 And for seven long years tra'osported, going to 'Van Die- 
 man's land. 
 
 We had a true-love on board the ship, JaLe Murphy was 
 'iier name ; 
 
 And there she was transported for carrying on the game ; 
 
 The captain fell in love with her, and married her out of 
 hand; 
 
 O, she gave us the best of treatment, going to Van Die- 
 man's land. 
 
 This land in port we went to, was on a foreign shore, 
 The negroes they surrounded us, about five hundred score ; 
 They yoked us like horses, and sold us out of hand, 
 They yoked us to a trace, bravely, to plow on Van Die 
 man's land. 
 
 Trie houses they built for us, wei^; made of mud and clay, 
 The beds we had to lie upon, was made of rotten hay, 
 O, rotten hay for beds, my boys, and slumber if you can ; 
 Sure, they gave us the worst of treatment, all in Van Die- 
 man's land. 
 
 One night, as I lay down to sl«ep , I had a pleasant dream , 
 
 I dream'd that I was in old Ireland, down by a purling 
 stream ; 
 
 1 dream'd I was in old Ireland, my true-love at my com- 
 mand ; 
 
 But when I awoke my heart was broke, all in Van Die- 
 man's land. 
 
 DELIA'S YOUNG MAN. 
 
 As Suug by Frank Gayton. 
 
 I^j^y name it is Larry, I m from Tipperarv, 
 mi&9 Where the girls are so good and'i.hfl 
 
 whiskey so fine, 
 I'm jjst one and twenty and Id money plenty, 
 
 Willie a dealer in pig's meat and things in that 
 line ; 
 Through Ireland I rambled, my money I'd gamblf 
 
 'Till as poor as a beggar without nary a red, 
 My heart still was easy for Delia my daisy, 
 
 I footed a fortnight my darling to wed. 
 My journey ended, my steps I soon wended, 
 
 To house of my loved one that stood on the hill, 
 Our hearts light with joy, myself and Molly 
 
 Drank health to each other 'till we had our fill . 
 Arri fed at the door, what could I do more? 
 
 Bat play off genteelly and send up my name, 
 And instead of my dearest came one of the 
 fiercest, 
 
 An ugly old huckster saying what do you mean. 
 
 Says I I'm here without dread or fear, 
 
 For the hand of my darling for thatsure I come. 
 Says he, "you can't have her, while me he did 
 lather," 
 'Till I called out for mercy and hollered with 
 pain, 
 Oh I I'll have your life for she's my wife, 
 
 You scoundrel how dare you ? with rage he did 
 spout, 
 And 1 without fail was marched off to jail, ^ 
 That ended ray loving and now I am out. "^ 
 
 THE SLIGO MUSKETEERS. 
 
 ■Words and Music by Hakky Bennett. Written expressV 
 for TrEENEY &, Cbonin. 
 
 Oh, let ye stand from under now and open wide j'our ears, 
 While we relate the story of the Sligo Musketeers ; 
 Sure, whin we landed on Ihissoil outWestthaymadetisgo. 
 And we worked at canalling in the State of Oh-ho-ho. 
 But when the war it did break out it took our job away, 
 We organized a Company and wint into the fray ; 
 We fought the ragged rebels, boys, for many a weary day. 
 But (hey could'nt bate the Sligo Musketeers. 
 
 Choeus. 
 
 With our 'aa, ha, ha, ha, hayfoot, straw, we marched across 
 
 the plain. 
 And luany's the time we thought we'd thought we'd never 
 
 see our homes again ; 
 The rebels fought like devils but their fighting; was in vain, 
 Por they could'nt bate the Sligo Musteteers. 
 
 We longbl, wid Banks and Bumside,and wid Gram wt 
 
 took a hack. 
 But the best of all, though he was small, our gallant little 
 
 Mac ; 
 Fai th I if they'd let him have his way, he'd surely drive 
 
 thim back, 
 If assisted by the Sligo Musketeers. 
 Suio, he knew how to Engineer, hkewise to command ; 
 No matter what your station was he'd take you by the hand. 
 He looked so noble on his horse when he was in command 
 Of ns fighting boys, the Sligo Musketeers. 
 
 With our ha, ha, Ac. 
 
 Bnt now our lave of absence, boys, is very nearly spint, 
 We'd ax you all to take a ball, but we're without a cint ; 
 On Erie shares, and all such snares , our money it is lint — 
 It completely broke the Sligo Musketeers. 
 We'll say Good Evening, one and all, your pardon, too, 
 
 we crave. 
 We did our duty, manfully, this country for to save ; 
 May the Shamrock and the Stars and Stripes in triumpk 
 
 ever wave, 
 O'er the fortunes of the Sligo Musketeers. 
 
 With our ha, ha, &c. 
 
 MARY O'MORE. 
 
 Sung by J. L. WooLSEY, of Dupbbz and 
 Benedict'* Minstrels. 
 
 lUjihl the sun smiles a farewell to evening 
 \ii0$ And then hid its beautiful face : ' 
 While the moon leaped the sky in its beauty 
 Adorning the bright world of space ' 
 
 The sweet little stars took their places, 
 
 And smiled as ihey ne'er smiled before; 
 tor 1 looked at their beautiful faces 
 And thoughtof sweet Mary O'More. 
 Chorus. 
 
 O would that to night, I were with thee. 
 My heart would no longer implore- 
 
 The blessing of seeing and loving, ' 
 My beautiful Mary O'More. 
 
 Oh ! I thought of the thatch'd covered cottice, 
 
 And the door that looked out on the sea- 
 And a face loooking out of the window, 
 
 And a memory thinking of me. 
 And a tear from my sad eye come creeping, 
 
 As I thought of the time in the door : 
 When I took the fond hearf in my keeplLg , 
 
 Of my beautiful Mary O'More. 
 
 Chordb. 
 
 O would that to night I were with thee. 
 My heart would no longer implore; 
 
 The blessing of seeing and loving. 
 My beautiful Marv O'More. 
 
iFisHiEi^'s sonsra- ltbt^.th T?.^r. 
 
 PEEIEOTIDIf. 
 
 Sung hy Mi3S Ella Wesnek, America's Champion Man Impersonater. 
 
 -fi K f^ 
 
 mm 
 
 1. Some plebeian swells you've heard a - bout, 'Wbo 
 
 PEEPEOTIOU -Concluded. 
 
 i 1 
 
 — » — •- 
 
 :^.- 
 
 pi \2<^\:'J- jr 
 
 -f- ^— 
 
 -L 1- 
 
 cs=i;d 
 
 am per - fee - tion lu man - ner and con - nee - 
 
 m 
 
 Siiow, le - vee or rout, They haug on fashion's 
 
 1^ 
 
 
 brink, These men of brass, how soon a - las, Their 
 
 ^F- 
 
 ar - ro - ganea will sink. Be - fore the proud and 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 fS=5^ 
 
 ;^ 
 
 fee - tion. 
 
 mm 
 
 -^ 
 
 li^ 
 
 •ty Don, Suriisimed Per - fee - tion Pink. 
 
 Spohm. — By Jupiter ! there's nothing more delightlul, more 
 exhilarating, more transcendent, than to be associated wir'i 
 the really polished swell. Precisely — 
 
 -s. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^.^ 
 
 -1 
 
 -(S—^ 
 
 =^= 
 
 =fe 
 
 
 -(S — 
 
 
 - -; * — 
 
 Per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion. All say I 
 
 NORAH, THE PRIDE OF KILDARE. 
 
 As beauteous as Flora, is charming young, 
 Norah, 
 The joy of my heart, and the pride of Kil- 
 dare; 
 I ne'er will deceive her, for sadly 'twould 
 grieve her, 
 To find that I sighed for another less fair ; 
 Her heart with truth teeming. 
 Her eye with smiles beaming, 
 What mortal could injure a blossom so rare. 
 As Norah, dear Norah ! the pride of Kil- 
 dare. 
 
 Where'er I may love I'll ne'er forget thee 
 love, 
 Though beauties may smile and try to en- 
 snare : 
 Yet nothing shall ever, my heart from thine 
 sever, 
 Dear Norah, sweet Norah ! the pride of 
 Kildare; 
 
 Her heart with truth teeming, 
 Her eye with smiles beaming. 
 What nional conld injure a blossom so rare 
 As Norah, doar Norah ! the pride of Kil- 
 dare. 
 
 Per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion, per - fee - tion. 
 
 2 To join the army it is grand, 
 And meet the flower of the land. 
 To squeeze fair creatures by the hand 
 
 And to their bright eyes drink. 
 When on Parade or off at Mess, 
 
 Such duty I ne'er shrink; 
 To teach the fellows how to dress 
 
 Pm thought Perfection's Pink. 
 
 SpoTcen. —Yes, by Mars ! there's nothing more exquisite, 
 more transcendent, than a well, dressed fellow in the thervice 
 (service, ) precisely. 
 
 Cho.— Perfection, &a. 
 
 3 In aU the sports I'm awf 'ly line, 
 At Croquet, Billiards both I shine; 
 I once played in a Pantomine, 
 
 By Jove! to see me wink. 
 I'm sure dear girls I am not vain 
 
 Now don't you really think 
 For manners and accomplishments 
 
 I am Perfection's Pink? 
 
 Spoken. — Yes, dear girls, if I only gain but a smile from 
 your beaming countenances, I shall really consider myself - 
 Cho. -Perfection, &c. 
 
 NONE CAN LOVE LIKE AN IRISHMAN. 
 
 The turban'd Turk may scorn the world, 
 May strut about with his whiskers curl'd, 
 Keep a hundred wives under lock and key, 
 For nobody else but himself to see ; 
 Yet long may he pray with liis .\lcoran. 
 Before he can love like an Irishman. 
 
 Like an Irishman, &c. 
 
 The gay Monsieur from Gallia's shore, 
 The hauglity Don and the soft Signore, 
 The Dutch Mynheer so full of pride. 
 The Russian, Prussian, Swede beside, 
 They all may do whatever they can, 
 Before they can love like an Irishman. 
 Like an Irishman, &c. 
 
 The finikin fops themselves Ijeguile, 
 And think they please in a capital style; 
 Yet let them ask as thej' roll the street, 
 Of any young damsel they happen to meet, 
 And I know she'll say from behind her fan, 
 That there's none can love like an Irishman. 
 Like an Irishman, &c. 
 
:Fisia:Ei?.'R so3src3- 
 
 Barkeeper, 
 " Coffet, 
 
 lEISH EXILE. 
 
 AN IRISH SKETCH. 
 By William H. Trimble. 
 CHARACTERS: 
 Tbrenoe Dovle. Harry Cavanagh. 
 
 Scene.— .4 street in 2. Ilmise on flat, with 
 Bouse above the door. Enter Terence very slmuly. 
 
 Terence— So I'm in America at last ! I've b .en two long 
 months crossing the sea. It's sick I am ; what misery I feel ! 
 I have not tasted a mouthful of food these last two days. I 
 will die with the hunger: I cannot go any further— I must rest 
 myself. I would like to have a drink of water, for I am as 
 thirsty as can be {knocks at door. Boy comes to door.) 
 
 Boy — What do yer want 7 
 
 Terence— If ye plase, sir, coula you give me a drink of wa- 
 ter? I am nearly dead with the ship fever. If ye plase, sir, 
 give me a drink of water. ■ 
 
 Boy — No ! clear away ! 
 
 Terence— Oh, please, sir, give me a little water. 
 
 Boy — No! (shuts door— exits.) 
 
 Tebence— Oh, I will die in the street {sinlts on the stage.) I 
 wish that I could die, and be placed along in the grave where 
 my poor mother lies (song) — 
 
 It s an exile I am, 
 
 I've been driven from hom«^ 
 And now in a strange land, 
 
 'Mid strangers to roam; 
 
 NORA McSHANE. 
 fe| 've left Ballymomacb a long way hehlDii. 
 
 To better my fortune I've crossed the big sea, 
 But I'm sadly alone, not a creature to mind me, 
 
 And, Faith ! I'm as wretched as wretched 
 can be ! 
 I think of the butter-milk, fresh as the daisy. 
 
 The beautifiil halls, and the emerald plain : 
 And, all ! don't I oftentimes think myself crazy 
 
 About the black-eyed rogue, Nora McShane. 
 
 I sigh for the turf-pile so cheerfully burning. 
 When, bare-foot, I trudged in from toiling 
 afar, 
 When I tossed in the light thirteen I'd been 
 earning. 
 And whistled the anthem of: Erin go Bragh ! 
 In truth, Ibelieve that I'm half broken-hearted: 
 To my country and love I must get back 
 again , 
 For, I've never been happy at all since I parted 
 From sweet Bally mornach and Nora McShane. 
 
 Oh ! there's something so dear in the cot I waft 
 born in. 
 The' the walls are but mud and the roof is 
 but thatch ! 
 How familiar the grunt of the pigs in the 
 morning! 
 What music in lifting the rusty old latcli 1 
 'Tis true I'd no monej', but then I'd no sorrow: 
 My pockets were light, but my head had no 
 pain ; 
 And if I but live till the sunshine to-morrow, 
 I'll be off to dear Erin and Nora McShane 
 
 I've seen many hard times, 
 While crossing the briny wave, 
 
 But long for some earth 
 
 From my poor mother's grave. 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 'Tis a handful of earth, 
 From the land of my birth. 
 From the green grave 
 Where me poor mother lies. 
 
 I've been banished from my home, 
 
 From the isle across the sea, 
 
 long to see my native land. 
 
 The place so dear to me ; 
 Whene'er 1 think of my home, 
 
 It brings tears to my eyes, 
 When I think of the green grave 
 
 Where my poor mother lies. 
 
 'Tis a handful, etc. 
 
 Scene Closes In. 
 
 Win She Let Me Kiss Her? 
 
 Music by RoLLiN Howard. 
 
 ^KH|i|5hen sitting by my darling's side, 
 K^^i^ She promised soon to be my bride, 
 With smiles that nearly set me 
 J a ecstacies they were so sweet, 
 My heart began to pant and beat, 
 And moving closer still my seat, 
 
 I whispered will she let me kiss her ? 
 
 Will she let me, will she let me kiss her? 
 I quick encircled with my arm, 
 Her waist (aow sure I meant no harm 
 
 To her who oft did pet mt) 
 She tried to get herself away, 
 She smiled and frowned, yet looked so gay, 
 That I nonplussed for what to say, 
 
 Just murmured will she let me kiss her ? 
 
 Will she let me, will she let me kiss her ? 
 I gazed within her love-lit eye. 
 Whose drooping [ashes made me sigh, 
 
 "Can eyes so pure forget me ?" 
 0, no they never can for they 
 In every glance do seem to say 
 "For thee I live, for thee I pray?" 
 
 Then surely she will let me kiss her ! 
 
 Surely let me, yes, she'll let me kiss hert 
 Enraptured at my own request. 
 She drooped her head upon my breast, 
 
 And made such thoughts beset me. 
 That I bewildered, plunged in bliss, 
 Sighed "Surely there is Heaven in this,' 
 And here I stole a long sweet kiss, 
 
 And found egad ! She'd let me kiss her I 
 
 Yes she let me, truly, fondly kiss her ! 
 
10 
 
 :&^ish:e:e?.'s sonsra LiB:Ee.^K.Y. 
 
 CRUISKEEN LAWN. - 
 
 Descriptively sung by Claka Mookk. 
 
 Let the farmer praise liis grouridrf, 
 
 As tlie hvintsman his hounds 
 
 And the shepherd liis sweet-scented kiwii, 
 
 Wliile I more blessed than they, 
 
 Spend each liappy night and day, 
 
 Witli my smiling little cruiskeen iaw.., 
 
 Lawn, lawn, lawn, 
 
 With my smiling little cruiskeen lawii. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Oh, Imth asuc the cruiskeen, 
 Shlanl the ga mavourueen, 
 G-ra machree ma cruiskeen. 
 Lawn, lawn, lawn, 
 Gra machree, me cruiskeen, lawn. 
 
 Then fill your glasses high, 
 
 Never toast with lips so dry. 
 
 Till the cock does awake in the mom. 
 
 And if you can't remain, 
 
 May we shortly meet again, 
 
 And we we'll take another cruiskeen, 
 
 Lawn, lawn, lawn ; 
 
 And we'll take another cruiskeen lawn. 
 
 Oh, linthe asue, etc. 
 
 And when grim death appears, 
 
 After many happy years, 
 
 And tells me that my race is run, 
 
 I'll say, begone, you slave. 
 
 For grea* Bacchus gave me lave, 
 
 Just to take another cruiskeen, 
 
 Lawn, lawn, lawn ; 
 
 J"ust to take another cruiskeen lawn. 
 
 Oh, linthe asue, etc. 
 
 Oh ! Bay of Dublin. 
 
 Rung by Rollin Howaed. 
 Music Published by White Smith, & Perry, Boston. 
 
 H^lh I Bay of Dublin ! my heart you are troubhn 
 ^^§ Your beauty baunts me like fever a dream, 
 Like frozen fountains, that the sun sets bubling, 
 
 My heart's blood warms, when I but hear your 
 name j 
 And never till this life-pulse ceases, 
 
 Jly earliest, latest thought you' 11 cease to be 
 Oh! there's no one here knows how fair thai 
 place IS, 
 
 And no one cares how dear it is to me. 
 
 Sweet 'W^cklow mountains 1 the sunlight sleeping 
 
 On your green banks, is a picture rare, 
 fou crowd around me, like young girls peeping, 
 
 And puzzling me to say which is most fair, 
 As tho' you'd see your own sweet faces. 
 
 Reflected in that smooth, and silver sea. 
 Oh ! My blessin' on those lovely places, 
 
 Tho' no one cares how dear they are to me. 
 
 How often when at work I'm sitting, 
 
 And musing sadly on the days of yore, 
 I think I see my Katie knitting. 
 
 And the childer playin around the cabin dooi^ 
 1 think I Bee the neighbors faces 
 
 All gathered round, their long lostfrieud to see 
 Oh 1 tho' no one here knows how fair that place is, 
 
 Heaven knows how dear my poor home wai to 
 
 PADDY'S LAND. 
 
 Composed by Joh.sny Koach. 
 
 COMB all ye boys from Paddy's land, who are inclined to roam, 
 To reap the English harvest so far away from home, 
 Be sure you're well provided with comrades bold and true, 
 li'or you have to fight both day and night 'gainst John Bull and 
 his crew. 
 
 Chorhs. 
 Then hurrah, my boys for Paddy's land, 
 
 'Tis the land I do adore, 
 May heaven smile on every chiUI 
 
 That loves that shamrock shore. 
 
 When we left home fot Dublin, the morning it being clear, 
 
 And when we got on board the boat, we gave three hearty cheers. 
 
 Saying: Good-bye, my boys, to that dear old land, we ne'er 
 may see it more, 
 
 For we're going to fight both day and night, all for that sham- 
 rock shore. 
 
 Then hurrah, &c. 
 
 We Bailed away from Dublin quay, and ne'er received a shock, 
 Until we landed in New York, long side of the dock, 
 Where thousands of our countrymen that were all in that town, 
 And "Fagh a ballagh, clear the track !" were the words that 
 passed all round. 
 
 Then hurrah, ifec 
 
 Then away we went in merriment to drink bourbou and wine, 
 Each iad lie gave his favorite toast for the girl he left behind; 
 We sat and sang, made the ale-house ring, despising Erin's foes, 
 Or any man that hates the land, where St. Patrick's shamrock 
 
 grows. 
 J • — Tlien hurrah, <fcc 
 
 Gal by the name oi" MoGee. 
 
 * oiAb by Fbahk Dumont sung by Fbane Gastbs. 
 
 M'll eing of » darahiel so loTeiy «nd feV, 
 Witi bor in beauty no gal coald compsM, 
 Saiii loTcJy eyes and aireet curly hair, 
 Hkd this gal by the name of MoGee, 
 Her pa aad her ma vrere both mighty sich. 
 
 They lived up OD avenoe V. 
 The sports round the city were all deep in lore, 
 With this gal by the name of McGee. 
 Choscs. 
 Rie cared not for them but in Rpite of thefa 
 moana, 
 Sjhe cast them aside for a fellow namt J .oe*, 
 He sat on the end and he rattle the botes, 
 In a niggei band down on Broadway. 
 
 To see him perform every night she would go, 
 The seat she would take was in the bont row, 
 
 IwMt SMitod boqoets to him she would throw 
 Ta Ut ber 1»t* know she was there. 
 
FisHTEi^'g; soisrcs- iL,x:B:Rj^:Rir. 
 
 11 
 
 SWEET POTTEEN. 
 
 I sung in Ed. Harriqan's Irish drama " Iascaire," by Hah- 
 RiOAN and Hart. 
 
 Jopyrlght 1876, by A. J. Fisuek, 9S Nassau Street, New York 
 
 Sweet Potteen, j'ou deceiver, 
 
 I love you just as well, 
 Since tlie day wlien first I met you, 
 
 You threw o'er me a spell ; 
 You're winning, you're eiiUcin?:, 
 
 As soft as Asia silk, 
 
 I love you, oh my darling, 
 
 Aa the baby loves its milk. 
 
 Choros. 
 
 Then drink to your neighbors, 
 
 Drink to your Iriends, 
 
 The dew from the mountain stream j 
 
 II once you took a drop, 
 Upon my soul you'd never stop, 
 A drinking of the sweet potteen. 
 
 Old Bacchus, you deluder, 
 
 With all your coaxing ways, 
 You've enslaved me liked a spider, 
 
 When brought within my gaze ; 
 Wid whiskey I'm so frisky. 
 
 From my head down to my toes, 
 I'd praise you, oh my darling, 
 
 To your friends or to your f es. 
 
 Tlieu drink to your, <fcc. 
 
 AEE YOU THERE, MOEIARITT! 
 
 SONG AND CHORUS. 
 
 Words by Ed. IUkkigan. Music by Da-si; BsiirAM. 
 
 Published by kind permission of Ed. Harrigan. All rights 
 reserved. 
 
 I'm located at headquarters, 
 
 A ''Special OfBcer!" 
 Cornelius 'Riarity, 
 
 Here, at your service. Sir! 
 1 know the thieves and blackguards too. 
 
 Wherever they may be, 
 And if you want a "fly Copper," 
 
 Call Moriarity 1 
 
 ' Chorus: 
 
 I'm a dandy Copper in the Broadway Squad, 
 
 A " Metropolitan M. P." 
 And the young girls cry, when I'm passing by, 
 
 "Are you there, Moriarity?" 
 
 The shop-girls going to lahor 
 
 In the morn, at eight o'clock, 
 They wink and blink their loving eyes, 
 
 At me on every side I 
 They say I am their darling, 
 
 With me they'd tralalalel 
 In a smiling way, you'd hear them say,* 
 
 "Sweet Moriarity I " 
 
 I'm a dandy Cojiper 4e. 
 
 My uniform is Kavy blue. 
 
 And it fits me like a duck ; 
 I escort the ladies in the street. 
 
 All thro' the mud and muck 1 
 For coach and horse stop when I cross, 
 
 I'm the ladies Own baby! 
 As on they go, they whisper low, 
 
 "Are you there,Moriarityl " 
 
 I'm a dandy Copper &c. 
 •Spoken, — "Tou diickcv." 
 
 St. Patrick's Day, 
 
 I'M going to get drunk, Norah, 
 ^ Pray tell rae why astorah, 
 
 Sure to-day it is the Seventeenth, 
 
 Tlie day we celebrate, 
 
 In lionor of St. Patrick, 
 
 Old Ireland's patron saint 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 On St. Patrick's Day, 
 
 We'll march so gay, 
 
 Up the Bowery and down Broadway, 
 
 If we don't have fun. 
 
 The devil's to pay 
 
 On the Seventeenth of March, 
 
 This is the hat I'll wear, 
 And I'll put on my false hair. 
 And aa we march together, 
 Tlie people they will say. 
 There goes an Irish couple, 
 That keep St. Patrick's day. 
 
 On St. Patrick's Day, &c. 
 
 "Wake not that Karp Again. 
 Music Published by Oliver Diison & Co. Boston*. 
 
 ^ii^^ake not that harp again, 
 1^^^ No hands but mine may sweep, 
 Impulsive o'er the strings. 
 
 Let its hushed echos sleep. 
 For plaintive notes of war. 
 
 Might mingle in its strain, 
 That harp is silent now. 
 
 Why should it wake again. 
 Once music soft and sweet. 
 
 Rang from this gentle lyre. 
 Love taught it dulcet notes, 
 
 Faith gave it sacred lire ! 
 Though love may linger still, 
 
 And hope yet wear a smile. 
 Faith shrinking, IrembUng stands, 
 
 Doubting 'tween truth and guile. 
 Not heav'n can tempt its flight, 
 
 No hope its bloom restore. 
 Wake not that harp again, 
 
 It ne'er must vibrate more. 
 For plaintive notes oi war, 
 
 Miglit mingle in its strain. 
 That harp is silent now. 
 
 Why should it wake agaia 
 
1:^ 
 
 IFISHIEI^'S SOnSTG LIBI^-A.I<^Y. 
 
 MoGOWAN'S WEDDINGi 
 
 {Copyright Secured.) 
 
 (Written ty John riEiDiNG. Sung by the World's Premier Irlsls 
 Sketch Artists, The Geeat riEUjises. 
 
 Twas on the Fourth of last July, 
 
 This 13 the truth and not a lie. 
 
 That Dan McGuwau and Mary Maloye. 
 
 In wedlock were united ; 
 And as they had some cash on hand. 
 Says Dan, our wL-dding will be grand; 
 More power to you, says Mary Ann. 
 
 Now who shall be invited : 
 The Clanceys, Fagins. and the Doylee, 
 Murphys. Dugins, and the Gores. 
 Whaleii, Ragen, and Pafidy Miles, 
 The Bolivers, and a hundred more. 
 
 Chokus. 
 
 >Pon mo wora, the President's Ball, 
 Orafaltat Lonigall! , 
 
 Finnigan's wake was nothing at all 
 
 Compared to this wedding. 
 Music playing, whiskey flying. 
 Boys and girls with love a dying- 
 Children in the corne s crying— 
 
 At McGowan's wedding. 
 
 Some were playing forty-flves— 
 More of them were shaking dice— 
 And the girls were making pies ; 
 
 The bride was telling stories. 
 Some V ere smoking their dudheens, 
 And boys a hugging their Colleens ; 
 More were eating Pig's ci-ubeens; 
 
 Sure all were in their glory. 
 Fiddlers playing jigs and reels— 
 I tell you they were a happy lot— 
 Until the whiskey made them squeal- 
 That was the time that things got hot ! 
 
 CHOnrs. 
 
 Melah, murder, what a time 
 Did'nt we see them cut a shiaar 
 Drinking whiskey, sometimes wine. 
 
 And on the the lunch a raiding; 
 Hugging, squeezing one another — 
 Children crying for their mother- 
 All mix'd up — this way and "tother— 
 
 At Mclowanlsj^ding. 
 
 OUR OULD IRISH HOME. 
 
 Written and sung by William Scanlan. 
 
 Ould Ireland is our native liome, 
 
 Tlie land where we were born. 
 And of it we are proud our friends, 
 
 And we ne'er our country scorn. 
 'Twas there our poor ould parents died 
 
 Not many years afio, 
 And ever since that time we had 
 
 To wander to and fro. 
 
 Chokus. 
 
 From our ould Irish home. 
 
 Our ould Irish home, 
 Tlieland of our birth, 
 
 Where strangers may roam. 
 
 Kai. 
 
 There's not an Irishman to-day. 
 
 But would light with all his might, 
 To see his dear ould countiy free, 
 
 And illume up grand ar.d bright. 
 With the flag of freedom waving high 
 
 O'er Ireland s beauteous home, 
 Arrali, then our hearts would beat with joy, 
 
 And we never more would roam. 
 
 From our ould Irish home, &c. 
 
 Ilow I long to see the day arrive. 
 
 When we shall take our stand. 
 Beneath that green immortal flag, 
 
 And fight for mother's land ; 
 To strike ! to strike that wished for blow, 
 
 And break that cruel chain. 
 That holds our own dear mother's isle 
 
 In bondage, grief and pain. 
 
 Chords. 
 
 1 1 our ould Irish home. 
 
 Our ould Irish home, 
 The land of our birth, 
 
 Where strangers may roam. S^ieat. 
 
 KITTY TYRRELL. 
 
 WORDS BY JEFFBRTS. MUSIC BT GLOWER 
 
 (^giOU'RE looking as fresh as the morn 
 
 f^^ You're looking as bright as the day ; 
 But while on your charms I'm dilating. 
 
 You're stealing my poor heart away : 
 But keep it and welcome, mavourncen, 
 
 Its loss I'm not going to mourn. 
 But one heart's enough for a body. 
 
 So pi ay give me yours in return. 
 Mavoumecn, Mavourncen, 
 
 Oh pi.iy give me yours in return. 
 
 I've built me a neat little cot, darling, 
 
 I've pigs and potatoes in store ; 
 I've twenty good pounds in the bank, love. 
 
 And may be a pound or two more : 
 It's all very well to have riches, 
 
 But I'm such a covetous elf, 
 I can't help still sighing for something, 
 
 And, darling, that something's yourselt 
 Mavourncen, Mavourncen, 
 
 That something, you know, is your-elf. 
 
 You're smiling, and that's a good sign, dailtiig; 
 
 Say "yes," and you'll never repent •, 
 Or if Tou would rather be silent. 
 
 Your silence I'll take fof consent : 
 That good-natured dimple's a tell-tal^. 
 
 Now all that 1 have is your own. 
 This week you may be Kitty Tyrrell, 
 
 Next week you'll be Mistress Malene: 
 Mavourncen, Mavourneen, 
 
 You'll be my own Mistress Maloii«. 
 
 SHAMUS O'BRIEu. 
 
 n USIC PCBLISaED BT J. PETERS, 198 BROA DWAS 
 /■^ H I sweet is the smile of the beautiful 
 9^k morn, 
 
 ^^ As It peeps through the curtain of 
 
 night, [tune, 
 
 And the voice of the nightingale singing his 
 
 While the stars seem to smile with delight. 
 Old nature now lingers in silent repose, 
 
 And the sweet breath of summer Is calm, 
 While I sit and wonder if Shamns e'er knows 
 
 How sad and unhappy I am I 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh! Shamus O'Brien, why don't you come home, 
 
 You don't know how happy I'll be ; 
 i've but one darling wish, and that is that 
 you'd come, 
 And for ever be happy with me ! 
 I'll smile when you smile, and I'll weqp when 
 you weep, 
 I'll give you a kiss for a kiss, ltEe>— 
 
 And all the fond vows that I've mads yon I'll 
 
 What more can I promise than this? 
 V>oes the sea have such bright and snoh beauti- 
 ful charms 
 That your heart will not leave it forme? 
 Oh ! why did I let you go out of my arms, 
 Like a bird that was caged and is free ! 
 
 Oh ! Shamus O'Brien, ete 
 Oh ! Shamus O'Brien, I'm loving you yet. 
 And my heart is still trusting and kind ; 
 It was you who first took it, and can you forget; 
 
 That love for another you'd find ? 
 No ! no ! if you break it with sorrow and pain, 
 
 I'll then have a duty to do ; 
 U you'll bring it to me, I'll mend it again, 
 4nd trust it, dear Shamus, to you. 
 
 Oh! Shanus O'Brien, ete 
 
IFISiaiEI^'S S02iT<3- L I B I^ j^ I?. ^■. 
 
 13 
 
 SINCE TEEET PIEST JOINED THE ftANG. 
 
 OopyrigbtedlSJS. Music to be had of E. H. H^RDrvo, iii' riowetr 
 
 N. y. Price 10 cents. 
 
 As sung by SoauiiAN & Cronin. 
 
 My name it is Mike SlaUery, 
 
 And from Ireland I came, 
 And I've a son wlio's a big blacltguard, 
 
 And Terrence is liis name; 
 He wears a gold watclv and chain, 
 
 And hecalls it a ' super," and a "slang," 
 Oh ! my heart is broke, God knows it is. 
 
 Since Terry first joined the "gang." 
 
 Chorus. 
 He'll come rolling home in the morning, 
 
 And he'Jl give the door the divil's own bang, 
 Oil ! my heart is brok", God knows it is, 
 
 Since Terry first joined the "gang." 
 When he came home last Thursday nijrht. 
 
 Sure I talked to him very nice ; 
 When he said old man ! you're getting to fresh, 
 
 And we 11 soon have to put you on ice ! 
 He told the old woman for to take a drop. 
 
 And to shut up giving him her slang ; 
 Oh ! her heart is broke, God knows it is. 
 
 Since Terry firstjoined llie " gang-" 
 
 He'll come rolling home, <fec. 
 
 Sure, he stands upon the corner, 
 
 From morning until night ; 
 And it the policeman says '' move on, " 
 
 He'll spit at him with spite. 
 He went to the market only yesterday, 
 
 And there he stole a big ham ; 
 And he got three months in the Penitentiary, 
 
 Along with the rest of the " gang !" 
 
 Icaj, Ladi, have you scon My Molly? 
 
 Am.— The Merriest Girl that's Out. 
 ^^y Molly's such a charming girl, 
 
 m^*! Her like I'll not forsake; 
 Sheis the Pet of Central Park, 
 
 And famed around the lake. 
 But I have nii.-:S(.il her recently. 
 
 And in bad spirits, rather : 
 Boys, if you tell nio where she is, 
 
 I'll owe you hnif a dollar 
 Chorus. 
 I say, lads, have }-ou seen my Molly ? 
 Have you seen her chignon, made of arti- 
 ficial hair ? 
 I say, lads, have you seen my Molly ? 
 She is a little beauty, and the pet of Unioo 
 Square. 
 She's up to all accomplishments 
 
 To hops she likes to go. 
 And, oh, ray ! Min't she trip 
 
 Upon the light fantastic toe ! 
 She wears a mantle, di'ess, and shawl, ' 
 
 That cost a dollar complete. 
 And sports tlie new Flexui'a boot, 
 
 They sell in Fullon street. Chm-M. 
 She borrwed fifty dollars from me, 
 
 The last time that we met : 
 It is'nt that I care about, 
 
 I only want my pet. 
 I'd throw myself into her arm, 
 
 If her I could behold, 
 And if I don't. 111 throw myself 
 
 Into the river cold. Chorvs. 
 
 THE WAT I MAEOH. 
 
 Words and music by John Reilly. Sung by him with im- 
 mense success at the Olympic Theatre, Broadway, N. Y: 
 
 Music can be obtained at Pekrt's Music Store, Boston. Mass. 
 
 Good evening to ye's, one and all, 
 
 I ask yer kind attintion, 
 The subject of me song is one 
 
 To you I'll now make mention. 
 It's about a day not far away. 
 
 Although it comes but once a year, 
 That's the time that we'll all feel gay, 
 
 On Saint Patrick's day in the morning. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 The drums will beat and the bands will play. 
 As down the street we march away. 
 
 That's the time that we'll all feel gay. 
 On Saint Patrick's day in the morning. 
 
 If you meet me on that day, 
 
 Tou must not get offended, 
 For what I say or do to you 
 
 It never is intended. 
 And whin I'm out upon parade, 
 
 I leave all others in the shade, 
 It's :;rand to see me in the Irish Brigade 
 
 Ga Saint Patrick's day in ths morning. 
 
 The drums will beat, &c. 
 
 DANDY PAT. 
 «|te AM ihc boy c.iUed Dandy Pu', Dandy Pal, 
 SilS I am from Old Ireland, but what of tha^ 
 ^^ 1 am Pat the Dandy O. 
 
 The girls and boys they shout with joy, shoul 
 
 with joy. 
 For I'm the true broth of an Irish boy, I'm Pat 
 
 the Dandy, O. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 I'm Dandy Pat 1 O, I'm Dandy Pat I O, from 
 
 Maunerfelt 
 To Mulliuavat there's none comes up to Dano^ 
 
 Pat. 
 At wake or fair is my delight. 
 For I glory in a rousins; fight, does Pat the 
 
 Dandy, O. 
 My shillelagh I can twirl about, twirl about. 
 Make lumps of skulls to fly about, for I'm Paf 
 
 the D.-vndy O. 
 
 I'm Dandy Pat,, etc. 
 
 So now, you see, I'm quite complete, quite com- 
 plete. 
 
 The world for better can't compete, with Pat 
 the Dandy, O. 
 
 I hope my song has pleased j-ou all, pleased 
 you all, 
 
 I'll give .aiiother description when you call od 
 Pat the Dandy, O. 
 
 I'm Dandy Pat, etc. 
 
 My stick is made of good black thorn, good 
 
 black thorn, 
 The finest devil that ever was born, is Pat tho 
 
 Dandy, O. 
 1 court the girls in every town, every town, 
 A merrier fellow there can't be found, than Pal 
 
 the Dandy, O. 
 
 I'm Dandy Pat, etfl. 
 
14 FISSIEK.'S S03SrC3- LXBI^^I^Y. 
 
 
 THE KOSE OF ERIN. 
 
 KILLAENEY, 
 
 
 Words by Clakibel. Music by Dknkdiot- 
 
 Written by Ed. Harrigan. 
 
 
 Music pub. by Lek k Walkee, Phila. , Pa. Prico 30 cei:t.i. 
 
 Sung in Ed. Harruian's Irish Drama, "Shamus O'Brien." 
 
 
 An sung by Myites Monras, at the Theatre Comique, N. Y; 
 
 
 
 Oh, Irish boys and girls, draw near. 
 
 
 I saw her first in golden hours. 
 
 We'd whisper soft to ye ; 
 
 
 With primrose stars appearin', 
 
 The way we love, like turtle doves 
 
 
 0, Queen was she of all the flow'rs, 
 
 Upon a bush or tree. 
 
 
 The lovely Eose of Erin ; 
 
 Between there's no conceit, 
 
 
 Beneath the shade of Irish hills. 
 
 Oh, it really is a treat, 
 
 
 Their Isle's own colors wcarin', 
 
 To ait beside the flowing tide. 
 
 
 Ah ! where smiled the shamrock all the dcy. 
 
 Of the lakes of sweet Killarney. 
 
 
 There dwelt the Kose of Erin, 
 
 
 
 Dwelt the Eose of Eriq, 
 
 Chorcs. 
 
 
 J saw her next in summer time, 
 
 Killarny, (sym.) Killarney, och hone. 
 
 
 With ev'ry charm endearin', 
 
 Oh, beautiful Killarney. 
 
 
 For she was in her girlhood's prime, 
 
 They say America's mighty great. 
 
 
 The lovoly Eose of Erin ; 
 
 And has its br®oks and lake,'^. 
 
 
 We met beside the banks of Erne, 
 
 A man might live in royal state. 
 
 
 No thought of sorrow fcarin' ; 
 
 Be fed on ducks and drakes ; . 
 
 
 Ah ! yet oft I thought her lily pale, 
 
 But hero we'll be content. 
 
 
 M.y darlin' Eose of Erin. 
 
 As long as we have our rent. 
 
 
 Darlin' Eose of Erin. 
 
 And stay at home, and never roam 
 From the lakes of sweet Killarney. 
 
 
 Alas ! alas on Autumn's wave, 
 
 Killarney, etc. 
 
 
 To Heaven her bar!; was steerin'. 
 
 , 
 
 
 And I, no pray'r of mine might save, 
 
 The little spec ihat's on the sea. 
 
 
 My lovely Eose of Erin ; 
 
 They call it Ireland, 
 
 
 Ah ! well a-day the Angels came, 
 
 It's large enough to shelter we. 
 
 
 My heart's own garden nearin'. 
 
 And for it we do stand ; 
 
 
 Ah ! and took from earth to bloom in Heav'n, 
 
 For the Lord above is just, 
 
 
 My lovoly RojG of Erin, 
 
 At some future da_y we must 
 
 
 Lovely Eo."je of Erin, 
 
 Rule every mile in that happy isle. 
 Where flows the sweet Killarney. 
 
 
 ** 
 
 Killarney, etc. 
 
 
 ERIN, MY COUNTRY. 
 
 NORAH O'NEAI-. 
 SONG by WILL. S Jl-AYS. 
 
 
 Oh! Brill, my country, tlioimh .sli-aimers may 
 
 Tho Music can be obtained at ary Music-Store. 
 
 
 roam 
 
 _^, ^ 
 
 
 Thy hills and thy mountains I once called my 
 
 Oh! I'm lonely to-night, love, without you. 
 And I sigh for one glance of your eye ; 
 
 
 OWIj J 
 
 For, sure, there's a charm, love, ahoHt you, 
 
 
 Thy lakes and tliy valleys no longer I see, 
 
 Whenever I know you are nigh. 
 
 
 ];ut warmly as ever my heart beats for thee. 
 
 Like the beam of the star when 'tis smiling, 
 Is the glance which your eye can't conceal, 
 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 And your voice is so sweet and beguiling 
 
 
 Oh ! " Cushla Machree" my heart beats for thee, 
 
 That I love you, sweet Korah Neal. 
 
 
 Erin ! Erin ! my heart beats for thee. 
 
 Ch.: Oh ! don't think that ever I'll doubt you. 
 My love I will never conceal ; [you. 
 
 
 Long years have passet' o'or us since the last 
 
 Oh! I'm lonely to-night, love, without 
 
 
 time we met, 
 
 My darling Bweet Nora O'Neal ! 
 
 
 But lived X a thousand I could not forget: 
 
 Oh ! the nightingale sings in the wild-wood, 
 
 
 The wann heart that loved me, 
 
 As if every note that he knew [hood, 
 
 
 The bright ej-es that shone 
 
 Was learned from your sweet voice in chiid- 
 
 
 Like stars in the heaven of days that are gona, 
 
 To remind me, sweet Nora, of you ; 
 
 
 Oh! " Cushla Machree" &G. 
 
 But I think, love, so often about you. 
 And you don't know how happy I feet. 
 
 
 Dear home of my youth, I shall ne'er see tliao 
 more 
 
 .But I'm lonely to-night love, without you. 
 My darling sweet Norah O'Neal ! Choriip, 
 
 
 But memory treasures the bright days of yore: 
 
 Oh! why should I weep tejrs of sorrow? 
 
 
 And my heart's latest wish the last sigh of my 
 
 Or why to let hope lose its place ? 
 Won't I meet you, ray darling, to-morrow, 
 
 
 breast 
 
 And smile on your beautiful face ? [mo 
 
 
 Shall be for thee, dear home, tjhe land of the 
 
 ■Will you meet mo ? Oh ! sav, will you meet 
 
 
 west. 
 
 With a kiss, at the foot of'the lane ? 
 
 
 Oh! "Cushla Machree." Ac 
 
 And I'll promise, whenever you greet me. 
 
 
 
 That I'll never bo lonely again. Chorn*. 
 
 
ZPISHSK^'S S03sr& LIBI?.^I^Y 
 
 GOD BLESS YOU, COLLEEN. 
 
 Worda and Music by Harry Kennedy. 
 
 Sung by the Favorite Balladist, Mias Alice D'Erina. 
 
 The shores of dear Eriii recB<le from my sight, 
 As swiftly our bark glides llie waters so bright ; 
 And eager I loolc, willi a sorrowful gaze 
 Upon the dear land where I've passed all my days. 
 My thoughts turn to home, and the dear faces there, 
 And for my dear Kathleen I brealhe a fond prayer, 
 And say, as the land quickly fades from my view, 
 God Idess you Colleen, I know you'll he true. 
 
 ClIORttS. 
 
 God bless you. Colleen, I know you'll be true, 
 True to tlie heart that beats only for you ; 
 Think of me, ilarling, when from you I stray, 
 God bless you, Colleen, when I'm far away. 
 
 A tear dimmed my eyes, as with feeling oppressed, 
 
 I stiffled the sob that arose in my breast ; 
 
 And thought of the long days ot sorrow and pain, 
 
 Before I couid see thee, my darling again. 
 
 That night in my dream I returned to my home, 
 
 And through the green meadows with Kathleen did roam, 
 
 But making tlio old words come back anew, 
 
 God bless you, Colleen, I know you'll be true. 
 
 God bless you, etc. 
 
 An Iriskman Rambles. 
 
 L-rds by Wm. Cauleton. Sung by Frank Gavton 
 
 MI'm an Irishman bent on my rambles' 
 S Of strange sights I've seen faith a few, 
 But its of the queer things I've not seen, 
 
 I'm now going to relate unto you. 
 When in New Yorlc city I landed, 
 
 I walked up BroanAiay do you see, 
 But if Broadway was walking up me boys, 
 
 "What a queer looking sight it would be. 
 George Washington's statue on horse back, 
 
 Stands in the great Union Square, 
 He brought all the States to Independence, 
 
 I wish it was so every where. 
 The General is riding Iiis pony. 
 
 So nate and so tidy you see, 
 But if the pony was riding the General, 
 
 What a queer looking sight it would be, 
 I then took a walk down the Bowery, 
 
 The boys and the girls for to see, 
 And to get a small drop of the crayther, 
 
 As I was out on a bit of a spree. 
 A nigger was eating an oyster, 
 
 So merry and happy was he. 
 But, if the oyster was eating the nigger, 
 
 What a queer Ior)king sight it would be. 
 
 THE FENIANS' ESCAPE. 
 
 An original song of the escape of the Fenians" from Australia 
 
 as written and sung by the great Irish Comedian and Vocalist 
 
 J.iMES O'Neil. 
 
 NOW boys if you will listen, to the story I'll relate, 
 I'll tell you of the noble men, who from the foe escaped. 
 Though bound with Saxon fetters, in the dark Australian jail, 
 They struck a blow for freedom, and for Yankee land set sail. 
 On the 11th. of April last, the stars and stripes did fly, 
 On board the bark Catalpa, waving proudly to the sky. 
 She showed the green above the red, as she did calmly lay. 
 Prepared to take the Fenian boys, in safety o'er the sea. 
 
 When Breslin and brave Desmond, brought the prisoners to tlie 
 
 shore, 
 They gave one shout for freedom, soon to bless them ever more 
 And manned by gallant hearts they pulled towards the Yankee 
 
 flag, 
 For well they knew from its proud folds, no tryant could them 
 
 drag. 
 They have nearly reached in safety the Catalpa, taut and trim, 
 When fast approaching them they saw a vision dark and dim. 
 It was the steamer " Georgette," and on her deck there stood, 
 One hundred hired assassins, to shed each patriot's blood. 
 
 The steamer reached the bounding bark, and fired across her 
 
 bow. 
 They in loud voice commanded, that the vessel should " Hea\-c 
 
 to." 
 to'ut noble Captain Anthony, in thunder tones did ciy. 
 You dare not fire a shot at that bright flag, that floats on high. 
 My ship is sailing peacefully beneath that flag of stars, 
 I'ts manned by Irish hearts of oak, and manly Yankee tars. 
 And that dear emblem at the fore, so plain now to be seen, 
 'Tis the banner I'll protect, old Ireland's flag of green. 
 
 The Britisher he sailed away, from the stars and sti'ipes he ran' 
 He knew his chance was slim to fight, the boys of Uncle Sam' 
 So Hogan, Wilson, Harrington with Darragh off did go, 
 With Hassett and bold Cranston, soon to whip the Saxon foe. 
 Here's luck to that noble captain, who well these men did free, 
 He dared the English-man-of-war, to flglit him on the sea. 
 And here's to that dear emblem, which in triumph shall be seen 
 The flag for which those patriots fought, dear Irelands' flag of 
 green. 
 
 A <.iRA G-AL MACHREE. 
 
 ^[t^gra galmachrcewhy so long are you waiting 
 ^a? The bright sun is rising, o'er all things in 
 
 view. 
 The birds from the greenwood are hastily shaking. 
 The dew from their wings and are looking for 
 you. 
 Their songs are quite feeble, their heads droop in 
 sorrow. 
 They want your sweet voice to enliven their 
 strain, 
 Arouse from your slumber and from ycu they 
 will borrow. 
 Such sweet flowing notes as will cheer them 
 again. 
 
 A gra gal machree, then awake from your sleeping 
 
 The green fields and meadows .ire lovely to view 
 
 The cowslips and daisies with dew drops are 
 
 weeping, 
 
 AH nature seems anxious to greet and see you. 
 
 The emerald lawn with its shining primroses. 
 
 The bright crystal stream at the foot of thehiu, 
 
 The forest trees blooming and nothing reposes' 
 
 Yet cushla machree you are slumbering still! 
 
A-- 
 
 S. FISHER'S LIST OF OHEAF FUBLICATIOlSrS. 
 
 -^ENT SONG BOOKS. 
 
 uenny Hushes' Dolly Varden. 
 
 2. Squeeze Me, Joe. 
 
 3. Johuny Wild's Dat Settles Dat. 
 
 4. Jennie Engle's Grand Parade. 
 
 5. Sheridan S, Mack's Character. 
 
 6. Harrigan & Hart's Mulcahy Twins. 
 
 7. Johnny Roach's Greatest. 
 
 8. Kiss Behind the Door. 
 
 9. Delehanty & Hengler's Songs, &c. 
 
 10. Miles Morris' Irish Gems. 
 
 11. Foy Sisters Songster. 
 
 13. McKee & Rogers' Rehecca Jane. 
 
 13. Jennie Engle's Serio-Comic. 
 
 14 The Fielding's Songster. » 
 
 15. 'SVayne & Lovely's Acrohatic. 
 
 16. Johnny Roacn's Emerald. 
 
 17. I want to go Home to Mama. 
 
 18. Luke Schoolcraft's Shine on. 
 
 19. Billy Cotton's Old Black Joe. 
 
 20. Delehanty & Hengler's Love, &c. 
 
 21. Billie <fc Maggie Bay's Old Log Cahin. 
 
 22. McAndrew'B"Water Melon Man. 
 
 23. Johnny Roach's Its Fannywhen yonFeel, &c. 
 
 24. Harrigan & Hart's Mulligan Guards. 
 
 25. Walter's & Morton's My Gal. 
 
 26. Billy Carter's Great Banjo Solo. 
 
 27. Johnson & Power's Little Moke. 
 
 28. Jennie Engle's Favorite Songs. 
 
 29. Shoot the Hat. 
 
 30. Freeman Sisters' On Board the Mary Jane. 
 81. Jennie Hughes' I Should Like To. 
 
 32. Woman's Temperance. 
 
 33. Gus Williams' Belle of the Ball. 
 
 84. The Fieldings' Tipperary Couple. 
 
 85. Harrigan & Hart's Tom Collins. 
 
 36. Wild & Bradley's Big Fat Nance. 
 
 37. Larry Tooley's Bouucin» Dutchman. 
 
 38. Harrigan & Hart's Regular Army. 
 
 39. Ain't You Awful. 
 
 40. Harrigan & Hart's Patrick's Day Parade. 
 
 41. Arnold Brothers' Jig, Son^and Darce. 
 
 42. Diamond & Ryan's Irish Hod Carriers. 
 
 43. Harrigan & Hart's Mulligan Grds (2d An. Prdc) 
 
 44. Sand ford & Wilson's Musical Mokes. 
 
 45. Harrigan & Hart's Skldmore Guards. 
 
 46. Billy t'ourtwright'3 Flewv.Flewy, FlewySngstr 
 
 47. Harper & Stansill'a One Legged Songster, 
 
 48. Fleldings' Irish Domestics Songster, 
 
 49. Tony Pastor's Traveling Songster. 
 
 50. Jenny Morgan's Kiss Songster. 
 
 51. Foy bisters' Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. 
 
 52. Wild & Bradley Theatre Comique. 
 
 53. Alice Harrison's Olympic, 
 
 51, Billy Carter's Champion Banjo. 
 
 55. Cool Burgess' Nicodemus Johnson. 
 
 56. Alice Bennett's Laughing Eyes. 
 
 57. Richmond Sisters' Challenge Song and Dance. 
 
 68. Harrigan & Hart's Day wo Celebrate. 
 
 09. Dr. J. L. Thayer's Laugh and Grow Fat, Ac. 
 
 CO. Sheridan & Mack's Knockingonde Outside &o. 
 
 01. Harrigan & Hart's Gallant 09th. 
 
 63. T. M. Hengler's Fun in the Kitchen. 
 
 63. Delehanty & Cummings' Sunset in the South. 
 
 61. Rollin Howard's Dramatic. 
 
 65. C. L. Davis' Dutch Soul' and Dance. 
 
 66. Johnson and Bruno's Mania Monia Nigs. 
 
 67. SamDevere's Caricature Song. 
 63. Miles Morris' Roger O'Malley. 
 
 69. Harrigan & Hart's Blue and Gray. 
 
 70. Harper & Stanslirs Sweet June Rose. 
 
 71. Ada Richmond's Wait till Moonlight Falls, £c, 
 
 72. PatRooney's O'Rieley You're N. G. 
 
 73. La Verd Sister," Sailing on the Lake. 
 
 74. Ella Wesner's Kin.: of Trumps. 
 
 75. T. M. Engler's Sweet Aleen. 
 
 76. Harrigan & Hart's Hildebrand Montrose. 
 
 77. Jolly Nash's Our Boys. 
 
 78. Tierney & Cronin's Ashantc Recruits. 
 
 79. Big Four. Lester, Allen, Smith &, Waldron, 
 
 80. The Murrays' Drops of Blamev, 
 
 81. Western & Walliug'e Just as Yon See us Now, 
 
 82. Am, Team, W^ayne, Lovely, Cotton & Uirdue, 
 
 83. Jakey Walfingstein, 
 
 84. Larry Tooley's Turn Down Your Collar, 
 
 8). Bennetts Kemell's Across the Raging Waters. 
 
 86. Foster & Dudley's Irish Clog, Song and Dance. 
 
 87. The Braham's Vocal Character Sketch. 
 83. Har.-v Montague's Popular Songs. 
 
 89, TheFiekUng^s New York, 
 
 90, Winnett's Love in Broken German. 
 
 91, Sara Martin's One Leg Soldier, 
 
 92, Jennie Lindsay's Style of the Day. 
 
 93, Virginia Stickney's Parisian Vaviety. 
 
 94, Harrigan & Hart's Theati-e Comique. 
 93. Sam Devere's Combination. 
 
 93. J. O, Neill'a Candidate for Alderman. 
 
 97. Frank Lewis' Hurrah for the M instrel Band. 
 
 93. Will Yon Love Me When I'm Old. 
 
 99. John Reilly's The way I March. 
 103. Billv Pastor's Star TraveUne. 
 IDI. H.Oshorne'a &F.Went\Vorth'5Lad&Lass, &c. 
 
 102. Johnson & Bruno's Just from Tennessee. 
 
 103. Scinlon & Cronin's Irishmen to the Front. 
 10!. Foy Sisters' Branigan Band. 
 
 105. Harrigan & Hart's S. O. T. 
 
 106. Niles * Evans' Two Love Letters. 
 
 107. -Arnold Brothers' Triple Clog, Song and Dance, 
 103, Kirk * Drew's Mischiev's Offspring, 
 
 103, Sam Devere's A Lean Banana. 
 
 110. Harry Braham's Silly Bill and Father. 
 
 111. Soanlau & Cronin's Poor, but a Gentleman Still. 
 
 112. Harrigan h Hart's Slavery Days, 
 
 113. Dick Sands' Irish Cbaracter. 
 
 114. Bryant .% Williani?' slender Nigs. • 
 nri.Liy.zic Braham's ^^ v et Bye and Bye. 
 
 DG, Delch.iuty & Hengl'i's Re-united "Serenaders, 
 
 117. Murray's Old and Young. 
 
 118. Frank Lewis' Motto Songster. 
 
 119. Harrigan & Hart's Gliding Down the Stream. 
 
 120. harrigan & Hart, Walking for dat Cake. 
 
 121. Jeppe and Fannie Delanos' Love at First Sight. 
 
 122. Clara Moore's Character and Descriptive. 
 
 123. Will Morton's Behind the Scenes. 
 
 124. Kelly & Ryan's Bards of Tara. 
 12o. Bran New BigFoar. 
 
 126. Cool Burgess Don't Get Weary. 
 
 127. Scanlan & Cronin, Dundreary O'Donnell, 
 
 128. James D. Roomes' Fashionable Beats. 
 
 129. Lydia Thompson's On the Strict Q. T. 
 
 130. The Peasleys' O'Rielleys' Raffle. 
 
 131. Girard Brothers' Dancing in the Sunlight. 
 133. Harrigan <fc Hart's Sunday Night when, &c. 
 
 133. Chas. Konollman's New York Variety. 
 
 134. Sheehan & Jones' Man of Education. 
 1.35. Chas. Diamond's Milanese Minstrels. 
 
 136. The Murdoch's Don't Yoii Do It. 
 
 137. Will. H. Trimble's Specialty. 
 
 138. The Bennett's Kitchen Domestic. 
 
 139. F, Lewis's Remember you have Children &c., 
 
 140. Larry Tooley's Mutton Pie. 
 
 141. Harry Woodson's Gwine Back to Dixie, 
 
 142. Harrigan & Hart's Front Stoop- 
 
 143. The McKee's Dancing in the Bam. 
 
 144. Worden &, Mack's Little Ruby. 
 
 145. Ben Dodge's Don't take any Notice. 
 
 146. Collyer & Kelly's Buck Goat. 
 
 147. Delehanty AiEfengler'sStrawberriesand Cream. 
 
 148. Fields & Hoey Mnsical Songster. 
 
 149. Whoa Emma. 
 
 150. Harry Montague's At it Again. 
 131. Harry Bennett's Charley Flynn. 
 153. Tim Roger's Ain't he a Baby. 
 
 153. Harrigan & Hart.'s Isle de Blackwell. 
 1,54, Bobby Newcomb's Sweet Forget me Not, 
 165, H. Osborne & F. Wentworth's Irish Comedian. 
 156. Duncan Sisters' Down in the Meadows. 
 
 TEN CENT HAND BOOKS, 
 
 Assorted as follows : 
 
 1. Art of Love, Courtship &Marriaje 
 
 2. Art of Good Behavior. 
 
 3. Book-Keeper's Assistant. 
 
 4. Conjuring. 
 
 5. Favorite Letter Writer. 
 G. Hoyle's Gamefi. 
 
 7. Hocus Poous. 
 
 8. Key to the Kitchen. 
 
 9. Lightning Calculator. 
 
 10. Napoleon's Oraculum 
 
 11. Oriental Fortune Teller. 
 13. Presto Change. 
 
 13. Prophetic Dreamer. 
 
 14. Ready Reckoner, No. 1, 
 i 6. Ready Reckoner, No, S. 
 
 16. Sparring, No. 1. 
 
 17. Sparring, No. 2. 
 
 18. Toast Book. 
 
 19. Young Cook. 
 
 30, Lovers' Letter Writer. 
 21. Ventriloquism made Easy. 
 23. Book of Conundrums. 
 23. Negro, Irish and Dutch One Act 
 Sketch Book, 
 
 TEN CENT JOKE BOOKS. 
 
 Assorted as follows; 
 
 1. De Bureau of Nigger Jokes. 
 
 2. De Bran New Joker. 
 
 3. Matrimonial Jokes. 
 
 4. Irish Joker. 
 
 5. Dutch Joker. 
 
 6. George Christy's Joke Book. 
 
 7. Little Joker. 
 
 8. Ryman & Hart's Jokes and Stump 
 
 Speeches. 
 
 TEN CENT NOVELTIES. 
 
 Little Flirt, Fan Shape. 
 Little Fascinator, Fan Shape. 
 Lovers' Telegraph, Fan shape. 
 
 TWEMTY-FIVE CENT SONG BOOKS. 
 
 Handsomely printed on fine paper, with beautifully 
 
 colored Lithographed Covers, 
 The Burlesque Songster. 
 The Champion Sone and Dance. 
 Tony Pastor's Budget of Fun. 
 Ne-w Can Can. 
 Jennie Hughes' Vocal Gems. 
 The Sprig of Shillelah Songster. 
 The Dutch Burlesque Songster. 
 Harrigan & Hart's Comique Songster, 
 Barney & Rickey's Irish. 
 Delehanty & Cummings Variety Sngstr. 
 Sam Devere's Burnt Cork Songster 
 Pat Rooneys Characteristic Irish Sgst'r 
 
 TWENTY-FIVE CENT HAND BOOKSJ. 
 
 Bound in Boards, handBomely illuminated Covers. 
 
 American Letter Writer. 
 
 Bon Ton Letter Writer. 
 
 Lovers' Letter Writer. 
 
 Ho'w to Behave & how to Write Letters. 
 
 Wheel of Fortune & Egyptian Dreamer. 
 
 Astrologer. 
 
 Madame Celeste's Fortune Teller and 
 
 Dreamer. 
 Magician's Instructor. 
 Secrets of Love & Guide to Matrimony. 
 Negro Comicalities. 
 Ready Reckoner. 
 
 TWENTY-FIVE CENT BOOKS. 
 
 Little Flirt, Cloth, Gilt. 
 Charlotte Temple, iSmo, Boards, 
 Lucy Temple, 18mo, Boards. 
 National Text Book, 1 8mo, Paper. 
 Art and Anecdotes of Ventriloquism- 
 
 TWENTY-FIVE CENT COMIC BOO',(S. 
 
 ISmo., Illuminated Covers. Each one lUastrated 
 with 150 EngravingB. 
 
 Game Bag of Fun. 
 
 Broadgrin's Comic Diary 
 
 Jolly Boat. 
 I Lumps of Laughtei 
 
 Merry Elephant. 
 I Rib Tickler. 
 1 Merry Thought. 
 I Plum Pudding. 
 ! Clown; or Banq-aet of Wit. 
 j Comic Sho-w Shop. 
 
 Joke upon Joke. 
 
 1000 Comic Bubbles. 
 
 FIFTY CENT HAND BOOKS. 
 
 32mo, Cloth, 256 Pages, 
 
 American Letter Writer, 
 
 Ho-w to Behave & Hov/ to write Letters 
 
 Wheel of Fortune. 
 
 Lovers' Letter V^^'riter. 
 
 Astrologer. 
 
 One Hundred and Sixteen Games. 
 
 Sparring. 
 
 Toast Book, 
 
 FIFTY CENT SONG BOOKS. 
 
 33mo, Cloth, 2.5U Pages. 
 Forget-Me-Not Songster. 
 American Songster. 
 Home Songster. 
 Singers' Gem. 
 Love Songster. 
 Sailor Boy Songster. 
 Exile of Erin Songster. 
 Fireman's Songster. 
 Old Ireland's Vocal Gems. 
 Ethiopian Sereuador. 
 Negro Forget-Me-Not Songster. 
 Serenade Songster. 
 V/orld of Negro Songs. 
 Modern Songster, 
 
 ONE DOLLAR SONG BOOKS. 
 
 ISmo, Cloth. 
 
 Book of 1000 Songs. 
 Mammoth Songster. 
 Giant Songster. 
 Big Songster. 
 
 FIFTY CENT HAND BOOKS. 
 
 ISmo, Boards, Illuminated Covers. 
 
 Complete Book of Magic. 
 American Joe Miller. 
 Complete Dreamer. 
 Fortune Teller, 
 
 Farrier and Farmers' Receipt Books, 
 Cook Book and Family Doctor. 
 Manual of Preserving, Pickling cind 
 Canning Fruit. 
 
 Any book in this list mailed free on receipt of prise. 
 
 A.. .J. 
 
 "^EI?., Oj^ IVassau. Street^ I^e-W ^STor-ls:.