And who are you, my pretty fair maid,
And who are you, my darling?
And who are you, my pretty fair maid
And who are you, my darling?
She answered me quite modestly,
"I am my mother's darling."

With my too-ry-ay,
Fol-diddle-la,
Fol-diddle-la-fol-deri oh.

And will you come to my house in the middle of the night,
When the moon is shining clearly
I'll open the door and I'll let you in
And divil 'o one would hear us.

So I went to her house in the middle of the night
When the moon was shining clearly
Shc opened the door and she let me in
And divil the one did hear us.
She took my horse by the bridle and the bit
And she led him to the stable
Saying "There's plenty of oats for a soldier's horse,
To eat it if he's able."

Then she took me by the lily-white hand,
And she led me to the table
Saying "There's plenty of wine for a soldier boy,
To drink it if you're able."

Then I got up and made the bed,
And I made it nice and aisy
Then I got up and laid her down
Saying "Lassie, are you able?"

And there we lay till the break of day
And divil a one did hear us
Then I arose and put on me clothes
Saying "Lassie, I must leave you."

And when will you return again
And when will we get married
When broken shells make Christmas bells
We might well get married.

Traditional Irish folk song, meant to be sung with a pint firmly in hand. Although there are reels that are usually ascribed to this piece, drunken singing and semantic drift have led to a number of variations in different parts of the country.

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