The ninepenny fidil

My father and mother were Irish,

And I am Irish, too;

I bought a wee fidil for ninepence,

And it is Irish too.

I'm up in the morning early

To meet the dawn of day

And to the lintwhite's piping

The many's the tune I play.

One pleasant eve in June-time

I met a loughrie-man;

His face and hands were weazen,

His height was not a span.

He boor'd me for ny fidil -

"You know," says he, "like you,

My father and mother were Irish,

And I am Irish, too!"

He took my wee red fidil,

And such a tune he turned -

The Glaise in it whispered,

The Lionan in it m'urned.

Says he, "My lad, you're lucky;

I wish t'I was like you -

You're lucky in your birth-star,

And in your fidil, too!"

He gave me back my fidil,

My fidil-stick, also;

And, stepping like a May-boy,

He jumped the Leargaidh Knowe.

I never saw him after,

Nor met his gentle kind;

But, whiles, I think I hear him

A-wheening in the wind.