WitH THE STORY TELLERS

Tyrconnell is a long way off,
The place for which I’m bound,
And while I search that northern land
I wish you safe and sound!

Well Rory we will miss you,

Of that you may be sure;
For here you’re always welcome
Alike to rich and poor.

May our best wishes tend you
Upon your lonely walk,
Till favoring breezes bring you

To give another talk.

A health to Rory on his way

But as for us who here must stay,
A quart of sparkling Burton ale

To him who tells another tale.

Shawn Smulk’s Story

“Said Shawn Smulk I, was in my prime

During the awful famine time,

When men were hanged for the slightest crime,
If crime it were to steal

Enough to keep yourself alive,

Where flocks of sheep and cattle thrive,

But these more prized than men survive,
And we had no appeal.

Whatever road you might pursue,

Sad sights were sure to meet your view,

In starving women and children too,
While men with hunger drop:

Though fields of barley, oats and wheat

Mignt furnish them plenty to eat,

But as the rents they could not meet,
The landlords took the crop.

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