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adventures-of-the-blackgang: Maritime Monday for March 18th, 2013:Catholics Need Not Apply On the fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York ‘Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And oh, how the wild winds drove her. She’d got several blasts, she’d twenty-seven masts And we called her the Irish Rover. We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags We had two million barrels of stones We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, We had four million barrels of bones. We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs, Seven million barrels of porter. We had eight million bails of old nanny goats’ tails, In the hold of the Irish Rover… “The Irish Rover” is an Irish folk song about a magnificent, though improbable, sailing ship that reaches an unfortunate end. This week: Irish Shipping

adventures-of-the-blackgang:

Maritime Monday for March 18th, 2013:
Catholics Need Not Apply

On the fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
‘Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She’d got several blasts, she’d twenty-seven masts
And we called her the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
Seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats’ tails,
In the hold of the Irish Rover…

“The Irish Rover” is an Irish folk song about a magnificent, though improbable, sailing ship that reaches an unfortunate end.

This week: Irish Shipping

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