The melody commonly referred to in the United States as "Old Rosin the Bow" was originally written under the title of "Eoghan Coir" by Irish poet and songwriter Riocard Bairéad sometime in the late 18th Century.
So kindly my parents besought me, No longer a roving to go, And friends whom I thought had forgot me, With gladness met Rosin the Bow.
My young day I spent all in roving, But never was vicious, no, no; But somehow I loved to keep moving, And cheerfully Rosin'd the Bow.
The old people always grew merry, Young faces with pleasure did glow, While lips with the red of cherry, Sipped "bliss to old Rosin the Bow."
While sweetly I played on my viol, In measures so soft and so slow, Old Time stopped the shade on the dial, To listen to Rosin the Bow.
And peacefully now I am sinking, From all this sweet world can bestow, But Heaven's kind mercy I'm thinking, Provides for old Rosin the Bow.
My friends will then so neatly dress me, In linen as white as the snow, And in my new coffin they'll press me, And whisper "poor Rosin the Bow."
Then lone with my head on the pillow, In peace I'll be sleeping below, The grass and the breeze shaken willow, That waves over Rosin the Bow.