I was well acquainted with a well-off old man,
And his place of dwelling was down in the glen
He was well propertied, with plenty of livestock,
And silver and gold to go along with it
He took the advice that he should marry a young woman,
As she’d look after his house much better than he,
But by morning and night she was cross and upset,
About the key to the trunk which was not to be found
Isn’t it a pitiful case, that you’d approach any woman,
When you know in your heart you couldn’t be loved,
Amn’t I kind to you, that you’d ever be so lucky,
That I’d stay by your side you crooked old wretch
Didn’t I give you much, silver and gold,
Small boats and big ones, a horse and cart,
Your fill of fine things, and of good hearty good,
A fine bed of feathers, where you sleep at your ease
If you gave me the world, and all it has to eat and drink,
All the wealth of King George which is known to be grand,
A fleet under fine sail and coaches under the road,
I’d rather have a young man than you, you old wretch
If you can’t see sense, go find your young man
Put on your coat, and your cloak round your neck,
Be at the crossroad when evening comes,
And you’ll get yourself a young man if you wait long enough
If I could find shelter somewhere in the Liberties
Oh how happily I’d spend winter there
It would gladden my mind, and not at all break my heart
Like it does to lie with you, you old wretch