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Poem	I My Paistin Finn is my sole desire, And I am shrunken to skin and bone, For all my heart has had for its hire Is what I can whistle alone and alone. Oro, oro! Tomorrow night I will break down the door. What is the good of a man and he Alone and alone, with a speckled shin? I would that I drank with my love on my knee Between two barrels at the inn. Oro, oro! To-morrow night I will break down the door. Alone and alone nine nights I lay Between two bushes under the rain; I thought to have whistled her down that I whistled and whistled and whistled in vain. Oro, oro! To-morrow night I will break down the door. From The Pot of Broth Tune: Paistin Finn II I would that I were an old beggar Rolling a blind pearl eye, For he cannot see my lady Go gallivanting by; A dreary, dreepy beggar Without a friend on the earth But a thieving rascally cur - O a beggar blind from his birth; Or anything else but a rhymer Without a thing in his head But rhymes for a beautiful lady, He rhyming alone in his bed. From The Player Queen
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