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'''PADDY O, BLARNEY'''   
'''PADDY O, BLARNEY.'''  Scottish, Air (6/8 time). D Major. Standard tuning (fiddle). One Part (): AABB (Aird).  There are a few (English) songs that feature the stereotypical Paddy O'Blarney. One was by English composer and song-writer Charles Dibdin [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dibdin] (1745-1814), and begins:
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''Is't my country, you'd know? I'm an Irishman born,''<br>
''And they christen'd my Paddy O'Blarney;''<br>
''In haymaking time I stepp'd over one morn,''<br>
''All the way from the Lakes of Killaryney.''<br>
''Turn'd my hand to just whatever came in my way,''<br>
''To be sure, while the sun shin'd, I did not make hay;''<br>
''[Well, then, you know the wives and daughters;''<br>
''of the farmers won't--well, they won't--]''<br>
''Have plenty of cause to remember the day]''<br>
''When they first saw Paddy O'Blarney.''<br>
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Another
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''Sure never a lad loved like Paddy O'Blarney,''<br>
''Whose heart was pierced through by Sally Dalarney;''<br>
''Och, she was a lass of the first kind of breeding,''<br>
''And ne'er spake a word all the time she was feeding.''<br>
''Something odd too, it is, and perhaps you may think,''<br>
''She had just the same way when she happen'd to drink;''<br>
''Och, the devil may bless the bright eyes of Delarney,''<br>
''For piercing the heart of poor Paddy O'Blarney.''<br>
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''Printed sources'': O'Flannagan ('''The Hibernia Collection'''), 1860; p. 34.  
''Printed sources'': Aird ('''Aird’s 6th and Last Volume of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs'''), c. 1803; No. 151, p. 56. O'Flannagan ('''The Hibernia Collection'''), 1860; p. 34.  
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Revision as of 21:37, 4 September 2018

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PADDY O, BLARNEY. Scottish, Air (6/8 time). D Major. Standard tuning (fiddle). One Part (): AABB (Aird). There are a few (English) songs that feature the stereotypical Paddy O'Blarney. One was by English composer and song-writer Charles Dibdin [1] (1745-1814), and begins:

Is't my country, you'd know? I'm an Irishman born,
And they christen'd my Paddy O'Blarney;
In haymaking time I stepp'd over one morn,
All the way from the Lakes of Killaryney.
Turn'd my hand to just whatever came in my way,
To be sure, while the sun shin'd, I did not make hay;
[Well, then, you know the wives and daughters;
of the farmers won't--well, they won't--]
Have plenty of cause to remember the day]
When they first saw Paddy O'Blarney.

Another

Sure never a lad loved like Paddy O'Blarney,
Whose heart was pierced through by Sally Dalarney;
Och, she was a lass of the first kind of breeding,
And ne'er spake a word all the time she was feeding.
Something odd too, it is, and perhaps you may think,
She had just the same way when she happen'd to drink;
Och, the devil may bless the bright eyes of Delarney,
For piercing the heart of poor Paddy O'Blarney.


Source for notated version:

Printed sources: Aird (Aird’s 6th and Last Volume of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs), c. 1803; No. 151, p. 56. O'Flannagan (The Hibernia Collection), 1860; p. 34.

Recorded sources:




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