‘Twould Have Melted The Heart Of A Stone jig

Also known as When I Was A Boy In My Father’s Mud Edifice.

'Twould Have Melted The Heart Of A Stone has been added to 2 tunebooks.

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One setting

1
X: 1
T: 'Twould Have Melted The Heart Of A Stone
R: jig
M: 6/8
L: 1/8
K: Dmaj
A|Add dcd|e2e efd|Add dcd|ecA d2A|Add dcd|
efg afd|Add dcd|ecA d2d|dfa afd|ceg fdc|
d2d dfd|cAc d2B|AFF GEc|d3 z2B|AFF GEc|d3z2g|
fdf fdf|a3zag|fdd gec|d3zcB|AFF GEA|d3dcB|
AGF GEc|d3z2g|fdf fdf|a3zag|fdd gec|d3z2|]

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‘Twould Have Melted The Heart Of A Stone

From "Flowers of Irish Melody", Belfast 1848.

When I was a boy in my father’s mud edifice
Tender and bare as a pig in a sty,
Out at the door as I look’d with a steady phix,
Who but Pat Murphy, the piper, came by.
Says Paddy, ”But few play this music; can you play?”
Says I, ”I can’t tell, for I never did try;
”He told me that he had a charm
To make the pipes prettily speak:
Then squeez’d a bag under his arm,
And sweetly they set up a squeak,
With a fa ral la, lal lal la loo, och hone!
How he handi’d the drone!
And then such sweet music he blew,
’Twould have melted the heart of a stone.

”Your pipe”, says I, ”Paddy so nately comes over me,
Naked I’ll wander wherever it blows!
And, if my father should try to recover me,
Sure it won’t be by describing my clothes.
The music I hear now take hold of my ear now,
And leads me all over the town by the nose!”
So I follow’d his bagpipe so sweet,
And sang as I leap’d like a frog,
Adieu to my family seat,
So pleasantly plac’d in a bog.
With my fa ral la, lal lal la loo, och hone!
How sweetly he handi’d the drone;
And then such sweet music he blew,
’Twould have melted the heart of a stone!

Full five years I follow’d him, nothing could sunder us,
Till he one morning had taken a sup,
And slipped from a bridge in a river just under us,
Souse to the bottom, just like a blind pup.
I roar’d and I bawl’d out, and lustily call’d out,
”O Paddy, my friend, don’t you mean to come up?”
He was dead as a nail in a door;
Poor Paddy was laid on the shelf;
So I took up his pipes on the shore,
And now I’ve set up for myself,
With my fa ral la, lal lal la, loo!
To be sure I have not got the knack,
To sing fa ral la, lal lal la loo, och hone!
Ay, and bubbarro, didderoo whack!