similar, but with a chorus

THE IRISH ROVER
J M Crofts

On the fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six,
We set sail from the sweet cove [Cobh?] of Cork,
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks,
For the grand city hall in New York.
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft,
And how the wild wind drove her.
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts,
and we called her the 'Irish Rover'.

chorus
So fare thee well, my own true love,
I'm going far from you,
And I will swear by the stars above
Forever I'll be true to you,
Tho' as I part, it breaks my heart,
Yet when the trip is over
I'll come back again in true Irish style
Aboard the Irish Rover.

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,
We had two million barrels of stone,
We had three million sides of ould blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bone,
We have [sic] five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
We had seven million barrels of porter,
We had eight million bales of ould nanny goats tails
On board the Irish Rover.

chorus ....[after each verse]

There was ould Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
When the ladies 'lined up' for a 'set',
He would tootle with skill for each sparkling quadrille,
Till the dancers were fluthered and bet,
With his smart witty tallk he was 'cock o' the walk',
As he rowled the dames under and over,
When he took up his stance they all knew at a glance,
That he sailed the 'Irish Rover'.

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
And Johnny McGuirk who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from Westmeath named Malone,
There was 'Slugger' O'Toole who was drunk as a rule,
And fighting Bill tracy from Dover:
There was Dolan from Clare, just as strong as a bear
All on board the 'Irish Rover'.

For a sailor it's always a botherin' life -
It's so lonesome by night and by day -
That he longs for the shore, and a charming young wife
Who will melt all his troubles awya.
All the noise and the rout, swillin' poteen and stout
For him soon is done and over,
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid,
that ould salt from the 'Irish Rover'.

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out,
Our ship lost its way in the fog.
Then the 'whale' of a crwe were reduced down to two,
Myself and the captain's ould dog.
The ship struck a rock, O Lord, what a shock,
The boat was turned right over,
Whirled nine times around, then the ould dog was drowned,
I'm the last of the 'Irish Rover'.

I'm 'the last of the barons', those 'buckos' so tough,
An ould salt who has weathered the storm:
Be the breezes asleep, or the sea wild and rough,
We were always in top-fighting form!
Oh 'tis we were the boys, who had tasted life's joys,
On shore we were all in clover:
For all women and wine, so buxom and fine,
Loved the lads of the 'Irish Rover'.

The Irish Rover A Selection of Irish Songs and Ballads
Dublin: Walton's Musical Instrument Galleries (Publications Dept), 1966

I don't know whether J M Crofts wrote the original "Irish Rover" or if this is his adaptation. (There are a couple of songs attributed to Delia Murphy in this publication which I believe are her adaptations of traditional songs). The book also credits J M Crofts with authorship of Noreen Bawn, and Eileen McManus, and gives his adaption of The Wild Colonial Boy.