The melody "The Wedding of Ballyporeen" is aka "Balinamona Oro" per my particular O'Neill's publication...

Thanks again!

Mary

here are they lyrics:

THE WEDDING OF BALLYPOREEN
Air: Ballinamona Ora (Air aka The Wedding of Ballyporeen)
Lyrics transcribed from "Poet's Box" songsheet dated
11th Sept. 1852
(source: Bodleian Broadside Ballads site:
http://www.bodley.ox.ac.uk/ballads/ )

Descend, ye chaste Nine, to a true Irish bard;
You're old maids, to be sure, but he sends you a card,
To beg you'll assist a poor musical elf,
With a song ready made--he'll compose it himself--
About maids, boys, a priest, and a wedding,
With a crowd you could scarce thrust your head in,
A supper, good cheer, and a bedding,
Which happened at Ballyporeen.

'Twas a fine summer's morn, about twelve in the day,
When the birds 'gan to sing, and the asses to bray,
That Patrick the bridegroom, and Onagh the bride,
In their best bibs and tuckers, set off side by side;
O the piper play'd first in the rear sir;
The maids blushed, the bridesmen did swear sir;
O Lord how the spaleens did stare sir,
At this wedding of Ballyporeen.

They were soon tacked together, and home did return.
To make merry the day at the sign of the "Churn,"
When they sat down together, a frolicsome troop;
O the banks of old Shannon ne'er saw such a group.
There were turf-cutters, thrashers, and tailors,
With harpers, and pipers, and nailors,
And pedlars, and smugglers, and sailors,
Assembled at Ballyporeen.

There was Bryan Macdermot, and Shaghnessy's brat,
With Terrence and Driscol, and Platterfaced Pat;
There was Norah Macormick, and Bryan O'Lynn,
And the fa, red-hair'd cook-maid who lives at the inn;
There was Sheelah and Larry the genius,
With Pat's uncle, old Darby Dennis,
Black Thady, and crooked Macgennis,
Assembled at Ballyporeen.

Now the bridegroom sat down for to make an oration,
And he charmed all their souls, with his kind botheration;
They were welcome, he said, and he swore, and he curs'd,
They might eat till they swell'd, and might drink till they burst.
The first christening I have, if I thrive, sirs,
I hope you all hither will drive, sirs,
You'll be welcome all, dead or alive, sirs,
To a christening at Ballyporeen.

Then the bride she got up all to make a low bow,
But she twitter'd and felt so--she could not tell how;
She blush'd and she stammer'd--the few words she let fall,
She whisper'd so low that she bother'd them all;
But her mother cried, "What, are you dead, child!
O, for shame of you, hold up your head, child!
Though I'm sixty, I wish I was wed, child--
O I'd rattle all Ballyporeen."

Now they sat down to meat--Father Murphy said grace;
Smoking hot were the dishes, and eager each face;
The knives and forks rattled, spoons and platters did play,
And they elbow'd and jostled, and wallop'd away.
Rumps, chines, and fat sirloins did groan, sirs,
Whole mountains of beef were cut down, sirs,
They demolished all to the bare bone, sirs,
At this wedding of Ballyporeen.

There were bacon and greens--but the turkey was spoiled;
Potatoes dressed both ways, both roasted and boil'd;
Hogs' puddings, red herrings--the priest got the snipe
Culcannon pies, dumplings, cods, cowheels and tripe.
Then they eat till they could eat no more, sirs,
And the whisky came pouring galore, sirs;
O how Terry Macmanus did roar, sirs,
O he bother'd all Ballyporeen.

Now the whisky went round, and the songsters did roar;
Tim sung "Paddy O'Kelly"--Nell sung "Molly Asthore;"
'Till a motion was made that their songs they'd forsake,
And each lad take his sweetheart their trotters to shake;
Then the piper and couples advancing,
Pumps, brogues, and barefeet fell a prancing;
Such piping, such figuring and dancing,
Was never known at Ballyporeen.

Now Patrick the bridegroom, and Onagh the bride,
Let the harp of old Ireland be sounded with pride;
And to all the brave guests, young or old, grey or green,
Drunk or sober, that jigged it at Ballyporeen!
And when Cupid shall lend you his wherry,
To trip o'er the conjugal ferry,
I wish you may be half so merry,
As we were at Ballyporeen.
^^