A Broadside: No. 6 Fourth Year
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300 copies only.
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CARRICKNABAUNA
There was an oul' trooper went riding by
On the road to Carricknabauna,
And sorrow is better to sing than cry
On the way to Carricknabauna;
And as the oul' trooper went riding on
He heard this sung by a crone, a crone,
On the road to Carricknabauna.
'I'd spread my cloak for you, young lad,
Were it only the breath of a farthen,
And if your mind was as good as your word,
In troth it's you I'd rather.
In dread of any jealousy
And before we go any farther,
Hoist me up to the top of the hill
And show me Carricknabauna.'
'Carricknabauna, Carricknabauna!
Would you show me, Carricknabauna?
I lost a horse at Cruckmoylinn,
At Bunratty I dropped a limb,
But I left my youth on the crown of the hill,
Over by Carricknabauna.'
Padraic Colum.
THE BANKS OF THE SACREMENTO
In the Black Ball Line I served my time,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
In the Black Ball Line I served my time,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
From Lime house Docks to Sydney Heads,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
From Lime house Docks to Sydney Heads,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
We were never more than seventy days,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
We were never more than seventy days,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.