Hai! This does not answer your question, ch-th, but I'll give this anyway: A friend of mine has 'Walton Songs, Book 5: The Irish Rover, A Ballad Miscellany (1966)' which prints this version of the IR by J. M. Crofts (most of it already is either in the DT or in the threads, some lines are in different order and the last verse is 'extra' and the verse about 'Donoghue and MacHugh...' is missing):

THE IRISH ROVER

On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six,
We set sail from the sweet cove 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.
Though 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 millions barrels of stone.
We had three million sides of old blind horse's hides.
We had four million barrels of bone.
We had five million hogs and six million dogs.
We had seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bales of old nanny goats' tails
On board the Irish Rover. CHORUS

There was old 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
'Til the dancers were fluthered and bet.
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of 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. CHORUS

There was Barney Magee 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. CHORUS

For the 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 away.
All the noise and rout swillin' poteen and stout,
For him soon is done and over.
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid,
That old salt from the Irish Rover. CHORUS

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

I'm the last of the barons, those buckos so tough,
An old 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. CHORUS

Now, please someone trace back J M Crofts?

Greetings aks, joensuu, Finland

---

I moved this message here from another thread on the same topic.
-Joe Offer-