 | Collected Poems of Moira O'Neill |  |
49
THE GRAND MATCH.
Dennis was hearty when Dennis was young,
High was his step in the jig that he sprung,
He had the looks an' the sootherin' tongue,—
An' he wanted a girl wid a fortune.
High was his step in the jig that he sprung,
He had the looks an' the sootherin' tongue,—
An' he wanted a girl wid a fortune.
Nannie was grey-eyed an' Nannie was tall,
Fair was the face hid in-undher her shawl,
Troth! an' he liked her the best o' them all,—
But she'd not a traneen to her fortune.
Fair was the face hid in-undher her shawl,
Troth! an' he liked her the best o' them all,—
But she'd not a traneen to her fortune.
50
He be to look out for a likelier match,
So he married a girl that was counted a catch,
An' as ugly as need be, the dark little patch,—
But that was a thrifle, he tould her.
So he married a girl that was counted a catch,
An' as ugly as need be, the dark little patch,—
But that was a thrifle, he tould her.
She brought him her good-lookin' gold to admire,
She brought him her good-lookin' cows to his byre,
But far from good-lookin' she sat by his fire,—
An' paid him that “thrifle” he tould her.
She brought him her good-lookin' cows to his byre,
But far from good-lookin' she sat by his fire,—
An' paid him that “thrifle” he tould her.
He met pretty Nan when a month had gone by,
An' he thought like a fool to get round her he'd try;
Wid a smile on her lip an' a spark in her eye,
She said, “How is the woman that owns ye?”
An' he thought like a fool to get round her he'd try;
Wid a smile on her lip an' a spark in her eye,
She said, “How is the woman that owns ye?”
Och, never be tellin' the life that he's led!
Sure many's the night that he'll wish himself dead,
For the sake o' two eyes in a pretty girl's head,—
An' the tongue o' the woman that owns him.
Sure many's the night that he'll wish himself dead,
For the sake o' two eyes in a pretty girl's head,—
An' the tongue o' the woman that owns him.
| Collected Poems of Moira O'Neill | |