Samuel Lover

Samuel Lover was an Irish songwriter, composer, novelist, and artist. He was born on February 24, 1797, in Dublin, Ireland, and passed away on July 6, 1868, in Saint Helier, Jersey. Lover is known for his works that often reflect Irish themes and folklore. He was a member of the Royal Hibernian Academy and is also famous for his novel "Rory O'More" and for penning the ballad "The Angel's Whisper." His contributions to Irish culture through his multi-faceted talents have earned him a lasting place in the country's artistic heritage.

February 24, 1797

July 6, 1868

English

Samuel Lover

How To Ask And Have

"Oh, 'tis time I should talk to your mother,
        Sweet Mary," says I;
"Oh, don't talk to my mother," says Mary,
        Beginning to cry:
"For my mother says men are decaivers,
        And never, I know, will consent;
She says girls in a hurry to marry,
        At leisure repent."

"Then, suppose I should talk to your father,
        Sweet Mary," says I;
"Oh, don't talk to my father," says Mary,
        Beginning to cry:
"For my father he loves me so dearly,
        He'll never consent I should go;
If you talk to my father," says Mary,
        "He'll surely say 'No.'"

"Then how shall I get you, my jewel,
        Sweet Mary?" says I;
"If your father and mother's so cruel,
        Most surely I'll die!"
"Oh, never say die, dear...

Samuel Lover

Lanty Leary

Lanty was in love, you see,
    With lovely, lively Rosie Carey;
But her father can't agree
    To give the girl to Lanty Leary.
Up to fun, "Away we'll run,"
    Says she, "my father's so contrary.
Won't you follow me? Won't you follow me?"
    "Faith, I will!" says Lanty Leary.

But her father died one day
    (I hear 'twas not by dhrinkin' wather);
House and land and cash, they say,
    He left, by will, to Rose, his daughter;
House and land and cash to seize,
    Away she cut so light and airy.
"Won't you follow me? Won't you follow me?"
    "Faith, I will!" says Lanty Leary.

Rose, herself, was taken bad;
    The fayver worse each day was growin';
"Lanty, dear," says she, "'tis sad,
    To th' other world I'm surely goin'.
You...

Samuel Lover

Rory O'More; Or, Good Omens

Young Rory O'More, courted Kathleen Bawn,
He was bold as a hawk,--she as soft as the dawn;
He wish'd in his heart pretty Kathleen to please,
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease.

"Now, Rory, be aisy," sweet Kathleen would cry,
(Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her eye),
"With your tricks I don't know, in troth, what I'm about,
Faith you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out."
"Oh, jewel," says Rory, "that same is the way
You've thrated my heart for this many a day;
And 'tis plaz'd that I am, and why not to be sure?
For 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.

"Indeed, then," says Kathleen, "don't think of the like,
For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike;
The ground that I walk on he loves, I'll be bound."
"Faith," ...

Samuel Lover

The Birth Of Saint Patrick

On the eighth day of March it was, some people say,
That Saint Pathrick at midnight he first saw the day;
While others declare 'twas the ninth he was born,
And 'twas all a mistake between midnight and morn;
For mistakes will occur in a hurry and shock,
And some blam'd the baby - and some blam'd the clock -
Till with all their cross-questions sure no one could know,
If the child was too fast - or the clock was too slow.

Now the first faction fight in ould Ireland, they say,
Was all on account of Saint Pathrick's birthday,
Some fought for the eighth - for the ninth more would die.
And who wouldn't see right, sure they blacken'd his eye!
At last, both the factions so positive grew,
That each kept a birthday, so Pat then had two,
Till Fathe...

Samuel Lover