"Thank you, Brother-Boe."
As I was a-walking through Dublin City
About the hour of twelve at night,
It was there I saw a fair pretty maiden
Washing her feet by candle-light.
First she washed them and then she dried them,
And around her shoulder she pegged the towel,
And in all my life I ne'er did see
Such a fine young lass in all the world.
She had twenty, eighteen, sixteen, fourteen,
Twelve, ten, eight, six, four, two, none;
Nineteen, seventeen, fifteen, thirteen,
Eleven, nine, seven, five, three and one.
Round, round the wheel of fortune:
Where it stops wearies me;
Fair maids, they are so deceiving,
Sad experience teaches me.
Twenty, eighteen, etc .....
Oh, but tides do be running the whole world over:
Why, 'twas only last June month, I mind that we
Were thinking the call in the breast of the lover
So everlasting as the sea.
Twenty, eighteen, etc .....
But here's the same little fishes that swims and spin,
And the same old moon on the cold wet sand,
And I no more to she, nor she to me,
Than the cool wind passing over my hand.
Twenty, eighteen, etc .....