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 lochrie-man: His face and hands were weazen, His height was not a span. He boor'd me for my 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 mayboy, 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!

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.