A very old poem composed by John Mulvihill of Scart, Glin


A fair is held in sweet Glin town

At the falling of each year

On the first of dark December,

When Christmas times are near,

Gay crowds of sporting people

To the town do gather in

To buy and sell, and drink as well

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

‘Tis there you’ll see the sporting boys,

The girls grand and gay

They gather in to sweet Glin Town

To have a sporting day.

Upstairs at Mary Regan’s tent

They will drink strong wine and gin,

And talk of future happiness

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

‘Tis there you’ll see the spendid cows,

Fine calves and breeding mares.

From the golden vein of Drumrisk

That land so rich and rare.

From Scart and Sandes’ mountain

Prize cattle do come in

And they all will wear their medals

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

‘Tis there you would see the sporting boys

Going out for exercise

With loaded butts and plants of ash

They break each other’s eyes

Cut heads and broken noses

The blood will freely swim

From Connell’s forge down to the quay

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

Those Drumrisk boys are men of science,

They have a record made;

I’m told by good authorities

They knocked out all the Fees

The Curlew with his gallant band

He then had to give in

And seek for police protection

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

They have a noble training school

In Drumrisk hill I’m sure,

For day and night in Drumrisk hill

The gloves they freely use,

They break wire lines knock down ash trees,

They damage bone and skin.

And no wonder they are boxers then

At the winter’s fair of Glin.

So now good bye to you old fair,

You’ve gone and passed away;

And as Christmas time is drawing near

I have one word to say

I wish a happy Christmas to all of you good men

And maidens fair beyond compare,

In that lovely town of Glin.

Composed about 15 years ago by-

John Mulvihill



Co. Limerick.

From: https://www.duchas.ie/

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