My father and mother were Irish,
And I am Irish, too;
I bought a wee fidil for ninepence,
And it is Irish too.
I'm up in the morning early
To meet the dawn of day
And to the lintwhite's piping
The many's the tune I play.
 
One pleasant eve in June-time
I met a loughrie-man;
His face and hands were weazen,
His height was not a span.
He boor'd me for ny fidil -
"You know," says he, "like you,
My father and mother were Irish,
And I am Irish, too!"
 
He took my wee red fidil,
And such a tune he turned -
The Glaise in it whispered,
The Lionan in it m'urned.
Says he, "My lad, you're lucky;
I wish t' I was like you -
You're lucky in your birth-star,
And in your fidil, too!"
 
He gave me back my fidil,
My fidil-stick, also;
And, stepping like a May-boy,
He jumped the Leargaidh Knowe.
I never saw him after,
Nor met his gentle kind;
But, whiles, I think I hear him 
A-wheening in the wind.