(Along the) Rocky Road to Dublin

The steam-coach was at hand, the driver said he’d cheap ones.
But sure the luggage van was too much for my ha’pence.
For England I was bound, it would never do to balk it.
For every step of the road, bedad I says I, I’ll walk it.
I did not sigh nor moan until I saw Athlone.
A pain in my shin bone, it set my heart a-bubbling;
And fearing the big cannon, looking o’er the Shannon,
I very quickly ran on the rocky road to Dublin.

A coachman raised his hand as if myself was wanting,
I went up to a stand, full of cars for jaunting;
“Step up, my boy!” says he, “I that I will with pleasure,”
“And to the strawberry beds, I’ll drive you at your leisure.”
“Strawberry bed?” says I, “That would be too high!”
“On one of straw I’ll lie, and the berries won’t be troubling;”
Drove me out as far, upon an outside car.
Such jolting never wor on the rocky road to Dublin

Published by H. De Marsan, 60 Chatham St, N.Y.
Bodelian Harding B 18(417)

In the merry month of June,
When first from home I started,
And left the girls alone:
Sad and broken-hearted,
Shook hands with Father dear,
Kissed my darling Mother,
Drank a pint of beer,
My grief and tears to smother:
Then, off to reap the corn,
And leave where I was born,
I cut a stout black-thron,
To banish ghost or goblin:
With a pair of bran new broughes,
I rattled o’er the bogs:
Sure, I frightened all the dogs,
On the rocky road to Dublin.

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

The steam-coach was at hand,
The driver said he’d cheap ones,
But, sure. the luggage van
Was t00 much for my ha’pence.
For England I was bound:
It would never do to baulk it:
For, every step of the road,
Be dad! says I, I’ll walk it!
I did not sigh nor moan,
Until I saw Athlone:
A pain in my shin bone,
It set my heart a bubbling;
And tearing the big cannon
Looking o’er the Shannon,
I very quickly ran on
The rocky road to Dublin.

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

In Mullingar, that night,
I rested limbs so weary;
Started by day-light,
With spirits light and airy:
Took a drop of the pure,
To keep my spirits from sinking.
That’s always an Irishman’s cure.
Whenever he’s troubled with thinking
To see the lasses smile,
Laughing all the while
At my comical style,
Set my heart a bubbling
They axed if I was hired,
The wages I required,
Until I was almost tired
Of the rocky road to Dublin.

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

In Dublin next arrived:
I thought it such a pity
To be so soon deprived of a view
Of that fine city.
‘Twas then I took a stroll
All among the quality:
My bundle then was stole
In a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind:
Thinks I: I’ll look behind:
No bundle could I find
Upon my stick a wobbling-
Inquiring for the rogue,
They said my Connaught brogue
It wasn’t much in vogue
On the rocky road to Dublin

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

A coachman raised his hand,
As if myself was wanting:
I went up to the stand,
Full of cars for jaunting.
Step up, my boy! says he,
Ah, ha! that I will with pleasure:
And to the strawberry beds
I’ll drive you, at your leisure,
A strawberry bed! says I,
Faith! that would be too high,
On one straw I’ll lie,
And the berries won’t be troubling.
He drove me out as far,
Upon an outside car:
Faith! such jolting never wor
On the rocky road to Dublin!

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

I, soon, got out of that,
My spirits never failing:
I landed on the quay,
Just as the ship was sailing,
The Captain at me roared,
Swore that no room had he,
But when I leaped on board,
Then a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs,
I played such rummy rigs,
With the water round me bubbling,
But when off to Holyhead
I wished that I was dead,
Or safely put to bed,
On the rocky road to Dublin

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dublin!

The boys, in Liverpool,
When in the dock I landed,
Called myself a fool…
I could no longer stand it:
My blood began to boil:
My temper I was losing,
And Poor Old Erin’s Isle
They all began abusing.
Hurrah! me boys, says I,
My Shillalah I let fly:
Some Galway boys were by,
They saw I was a hobble in:
Then with a loud Hurrah!
They joined me in the fray:
Faug-a-bellagh! clear the way
For the rocky road to Dublin!

For, it is the rocky road,
Here’s the road to Dublin;
Here’s the rocky road,
Now, fire away to Dulbin!

From P. W. Joyce’s Ballad Sheet Scrapbook I, Pt. I. Earliest date on the scrapbook is 1905. Find the book here.

I am an Irish boy, born in Limerick City,
Where the boys are all so gay, and the girls they are so pretty
I love to see the world, at home being tired of waiting
So I took it in my head to start off emigrating

My heart was free from care, and nothing me was troubling
So off I took my way on the rocky road to Dublin

With money in my pourse [sic], I started off so gaily
With one fist in my hand, in the other my shileleah
I took a random leave, of Judy and old Daddy
The cow, the pig, the cat – all bid farewell to Paddy

My heart was free from care, and nothing me was troubling
So off I took my way on the rocky road to Dublin

The milestones all of wood, not a word to me was speaking
The devil a step they walked, while I the way was seeking
They loved old Ireland so, no matter what a state in
For the devil a milestone yet, was fond of emigrating

My heart was free from care, and nothing me was troubling
So off I took my way on the rocky road to Dublin

Then a chap comes up to me, says he, “I want your money”
Says I, “Take all I have got, you’re welcome to it hunny
Then I gave him a whack, practiced in it daily
And I flourished about his head decent stout shileleah

My heart was free from care, and nothing me was troubling
So off I took my way on the rocky road to Dublin

So in Cork I arrived, Limerick after leaving
When I fled the folks so kind, it makes me leaving off grieving
Believe this Limerick boy, he takes a great delight, sirs–
To sing, and dance, and please you every night, sirs

My heart was free from care, and nothing me was troubling
So off I took my way on the rocky road to Dublin

From the Singing of Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh

Seo, haon tí rí tí ro, haon tí ro tí a reacaire
Haon tí rí tí ro, is cuir ar a thóin a’ bhairille

Chuirfinn dhá thóin, dhá thóin, chuirfinn dhá thóin ar dhá bhairille
Chuirfinn dhá thóin, dhá thóin, dhá ghloine ar a mbord ‘s dhá chnagaire

Chuirfinn trí thóin, trí thóin, chuirfinn trí thóin ar trí bhairille
Chuirfinn trí thóin, trí thóin, trí ghloine ar a mbord ‘s trí chnagaire

A dhuine bí ciúin go fóill, éist le glór an tseanfhocail
Seachain na mná ‘s an t-ól, is seachain go deo na bearta seo

Chuirfinn ceithre thóin, ceithre thóin, chuirfinn ceithre thóin ar ceithre bhairille
Chuirfinn ceithre thóin, ceithre thóin, ceithre ghloine ar a mbord ‘s ceithre chnagaire

A dhuine bí ciúin go fóill, éist le glór an tseanfhocail
Seachain na mná ‘s an t-ól, is seachain go deo na bearta seo

Chuirfinn cúig tóin, cúig tóin, chuirfinn cúig tóin ar cúig bhairille
Chuirfinn cúig tóin, cúig tóin, cúig ghloine ar a mbord ‘s cúig chnagaire

A dhuine bí ciúin go fóill, éist le glór an tseanfhocail
Seachain na mná ‘s an t-ól, is seachain go deo na bearta seo

English translation

Here, one tí rí tí ro, one tí rí tí ro, O ranter
One tí rí tí ro, and make your way to the bottom of the barrel

I’d make my way to the two bottoms, the two bottoms
I’d make my way to the two bottoms of two barrels
I’d drink to the bottom twice
Two glasses on the table and two noggins

I’d make my way to the three bottoms, the three bottoms
I’d make my way to the three bottom of three barrels
I’d drink to the bottom three times
Three glasses on the table and three noggins

Dear man, be quiet for a while, listen to the words of the old saying
Avoid women and drinks, always avoid such things

I’d make my way to the four bottoms, the four bottoms
I’d make my way to the four bottoms of four barrels
I’d drink to the bottom four times
Four glasses on the table and four noggins

Dear man, be quiet for a while, listen to the words of the old saying
Avoid women and drinks, always avoid such things

I’d make my way to the five bottoms, the five bottoms
I’d make my way to the five bottoms of five barrels
I’d drink to the bottom five times
Five glasses on the table and five noggins

Dear man, be quiet for a while, listen to the words of the old saying
Avoid women and drinks, always avoid such things