| lyric | I'm a bold undawnted youth, my name is John Mac Cann.
I’m a native of Donegal, convenient to Strabane;
For the stealing of an heiress, I lie in Lofford Jail.
Her father swears he’ll hang me for his daughter Mary Neal.
Whilst I lay in irons cold, my love she came to me:
‘Don’t fear my father’s anger, for I will set you free.’
Her father gave consent to let me out on bail,
And I was to stand trial for his daughter Mary Neal.
Her father kept her close confined, for fear I should her see,
And on my trial day, was my prosecutor to be;
But like a loyal lover, to appear she did not fail,
She freed me from all dangers; she’s my charming Mary Neal.
With wrath and indignation, her father loud did call,
And when my trial was over, I approached the garden wall,
My well—known voice soon reached her ears, which echoed hill and dale,
Saying, ‘You’re welcome here, my Johnny dear,’ says charming Mary Neal.
We both sat on a sunny bank, and there we talked awhile.
He says, ‘My clear, if you will comply, I’ll free you from exile.
The Shamrock is ready from Derry to set sail;
So come with me, off to Quebec, my charming Mary Neal.’
She gave consent, and back she went, and stole the best of clothes,
And to no one in the house her secret she made known;
Five hundred pounds of ready gold from her father she did steal,
And that was twice I did elope with charming Mary Neal.
Our coach it was got ready to Derry for to go,
And there we bribed the coachman for to let no one know;
He said he would keep secret, and never would reveal.
So off to Derry there I went with charming Mary Neal.
It was to Captain Nelson our passage money paid,
And in the town of Derry it was under cover laid.
We joined our hands in wedlock bands before we did set sail.
And her father’s wrath I value not. I love my Mary Neal.
It was over the proud and swelling seas our ship did gently glide,
And on our passage to Quebec, six weeks a matchless tide;
Until we came to Whitehead Beach we had no cause to wail,
On Crossford Bay I thought that day I lost my Mary Neal.
On the ninth of June, in the afternoon, a heavy fog came on;
The captain cries, ‘Look out, my boys! I fear we are all gone.’
Our vessel on a sandy bank was driven by a gale,
And forty more washed overboard, along with Mary Neal.
With the help of boats and the ship’s crew, five hundred they were saved
And forty more of them also have met a watery grave.
I soon spied her yellow locks come floating down the waves:
I jumped into the boiling deep and saved my Mary Neal.
Her father wrote a letter as you may understand,
That if I would go back again he would give me all his land.
I wrote him back an answer, and thathwithout fail,
‘That I’m the heir of your whole estate, by your daughter Mary Neal.’ |