Eoghan Coir


Isn’t this the most pitiful story
That ever touched heart to the core
Today we saw Eoghan to glory
From Cregan-a-line to Fallmore
Such wailing and loud lamentation
Were ne’er heard in Erin before
For we’ve lost our best friend in creation
The kind, tender-hearted Eoghan Coir

He had everyone’s love and affection
The withered old man and the young
With the highest and lowest connection
The praise of his big heart was sung
With the pick and the pride of the people
Although he liked best to spend free
He’d never say no to a tipple
From folks of the lowest degree

Poor Gavin’s in deep tribulation
And Boyle won’t be long to the fore
Since they lost their best friend in creation
Their hearts are with grief brimming o’er
There never, I’m thinking, yet measured
His length in the battle’s uproar
A hero this couple more cherished
Than the soft-hearted craythur, Eoghan Coir

’twas he that was good at rent-taking
Made light of a month here and there
Till you’d sell the freeze coat you’d be making
Or your young heifer calf at the fair
’twas thinking of all his good labours
Made Shamus so fervently pray
‘The same as he was to the neighbours
May Jesus be to him this day’

Put in one line with a seven
And eight after that doubled o’er
He went on his journey to Heaven
And the devil a word he spoke more
’tis laid down by poet and prophet
Some day to the grave, we’ll all go
But while we can keep our legs off it
A drink is the best cure for woe


Originally written in Irish by Mayo poet Riocard Bairead (1740-1819), the Bard of Erris, this is the English version written by Francis A.Fahy and published in Donal O’Sullivan’s “Songs of the Irish” (1960)

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