The ship will sail In half an hour to cross the broad Atlantic
My friends are standing on the shore with grief and sorrow frantic
My trunks are all stored down below in the great ship Dan O'Leary,
The anchor's weighed and the gangway's up and I'm leaving Tipperary.
Good-bye Mike, Good-bye Pat, Good-bye Kate and Mary,
For the anchor's weighed and the gang-way's up and I'm leaving Tipperary,
See, there's the steamer blazing up, I can no longer stay,
For I'm bound for Now York City boys, ten thousand miles away.
My portmanteau I've got packed with potatoes, greens and bacon,
If you think I won't look after that in troth you are mistaken,
And if the ship does pitch and toss for half a dozen farthings
I'll take my trunk upon my back and walk to Castle Garden.
Give my respects to Mrs. Mac, and likewise Mrs. Hagan,
And I'll come back to the cristening when she marries Patsy Fagan,
I'm deep in love with Molly Burke as a jackass is in clover
And when I'm settled, if she'll come, I'll pay her passage over.
This Is a song of the period when the exiles went in their thousands every year to work on the railways and in the tunnels of the United States. They sailed in tears from the Cove of Cork and landed in hope at Castle Garden.