I have the Elizabeth Cronin set, and the lyrics for Sweet Lisbweemore are indeed printed in the book. I don't know the Patrick Street version though, so I hope the following is helpful to Fabian. I don't know how to do italics or accent marks so if anyone could help with the following edits I'd be grateful: in verse 5, Irish words "a stoir" and "gra mo chroi" should be italicized. There should be an accent over the 'o' in "stoir" and over the 'a' in "gra" and over the 'i' in "chroi." In verse 10, the word "ceap" should be italicized. And in Daibhi O Croinin's name, there should be accents over the 'a' and the last 'i' in Daibhi and over the 'O'and over the 'o' and second 'i' in O Croinin. Thanks! Margaret

SWEET LISBWEEMORE

One morning in the month of June,
as Sol's bright beams the air illum'ed,
My cattle from the bawn I drove,
and then stretched at my ease.
The skylark sang melodiously
a lovely lass appeared to me,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore.

When I saw this maid approaching me
my heart rose to a height of glee,
I stood with great alacrity
to accost this comely maid.
She says: "Kind sir, I'm going astray;
please, now, would you show me the way
That leads to the weaver's house
in sweet Lisbweemore?"

When I beheld this charming maid,
my heart began to palpitate,
My eyes began to dazzle
and her figure I could not state.
She was loaded with some balls of thread,
the same she had upon her head,
Passing by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore.

"Come along, my pretty maid,
don't be of me the least afraid;
I'll lead you through this rugged place
you never went before.
Your guardian I will surely be,
until that young man's face you'll see,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore.

There is no other human being
in showing the way can surpass me;
I know it from my infancy,
so come along, a stoir.
Or if you will abide with me,
I'll always style you 'gra mo chroi',
Here by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore."

She soon replied: "Indeed, I won't;
you are a scheming, naughty rogue!
So please desist from flattery
with a simple, honest maid.
But if you're inclined to show the way,
then come along, don't me delay,
Down by the turbary,
in sweet Lisbweemore."

What she said I did excuse,
her request I could not refuse,
As we walked along together
she this to me did say:
"Where lives the man they call "D.D.?"
his residence I'd like to see,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore."

"The truth to you I will relate:
I do not wish to see his face;
The reason, too, I'll tell to you:
'tis early in the day.
For if he'd see us two alone,
a song for us he would compose,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore."

"To do his best, what can he say ---
are we not honest going the way?
Besides, he has the [?tendency]
never to dispraise.
But if another man were in my shoes
he'd spoil your thread, both warp and woof,
Down by the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore."

When this I said, without delay,
upon my word! she ran away!
In vain I tried to follow her
through flat and steeplechase.
No roe-buck in the park so quick could leap
beyond each ceap and ditch
As she did through the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore!

And as she was too smart for me,
though I ran with great rapidity,
I was troubled with the dint of speed
and topsy-turvy thrown.
Ere again my foot I lay
At least from the turbary
in sweet Lisbweemore.

As sung by Elizabeth Cronin

Notes to text by Cronin's grandson Daibhi O Croinin cite Seamus Ennis as considering that the song "is probably a product of the bardic schools of the early 19th century."

MLV