 | The Harp of Erin |  |
217
THE DEATH OF POOR DAVIE,
THE KILLEIGH PIPER.
Come all ye jolly folks of Killeigh,
And ponder on the tale I tell ye:
Relinquish Susan, Kate, and Nelly,
And droop the head;
Grim Death has stopt your piper's gullie;
Poor Davie's dead.
And ponder on the tale I tell ye:
Relinquish Susan, Kate, and Nelly,
And droop the head;
Grim Death has stopt your piper's gullie;
Poor Davie's dead.
Wae's me! no more shall thy stuff'd pudding
Set heels quick stamping on a sudden,
And fill the hearts of Giles and Cudden
With huge delight:
Just when the rose of life was budding,
Came a fell blight.
Set heels quick stamping on a sudden,
And fill the hearts of Giles and Cudden
With huge delight:
Just when the rose of life was budding,
Came a fell blight.
Oft have I heard your windy music
Till it would make both me and you sick,
And drunk the beer of Goody Cusack
Till darkness fled;
Now on your grave I must a yew stick;
Poor Davie's dead!
Till it would make both me and you sick,
218
Till darkness fled;
Now on your grave I must a yew stick;
Poor Davie's dead!
When Death, the gilligapus, stole
To pluck away thy gabby soul,
Had'st thou inspir'd thy tuneful hole
With skilful head,
He would have run like silly-foal;
But now thou'rt dead.
To pluck away thy gabby soul,
Had'st thou inspir'd thy tuneful hole
With skilful head,
He would have run like silly-foal;
But now thou'rt dead.
Southerne shall strew thy coal-black hearse
With epic Hudibrastic verse;
Thy praise in lofty lays rehearse,
And blath'ring rhyme;
Wow, he thy future fame shall nurse
In scrawls sublime.
With epic Hudibrastic verse;
Thy praise in lofty lays rehearse,
And blath'ring rhyme;
Wow, he thy future fame shall nurse
In scrawls sublime.
To greyhound's tail he'll tie
thy glory,
And propagate the rev'rend story:
Fam'd as the famous John-a-Dory,
His song shall save ye;
And tell to trimmer, whig, and tory,
Hic jacet Davie.
And propagate the rev'rend story:
Fam'd as the famous John-a-Dory,
His song shall save ye;
And tell to trimmer, whig, and tory,
Hic jacet Davie.
219
At wedding dinner when thou'st been,
With breeches red and cravat clean,
How thou would's tune thy engine keen;
And, droning loudly,
Set cats, maids, dogs, upon the green.
A prancing proudly!
With breeches red and cravat clean,
How thou would's tune thy engine keen;
And, droning loudly,
Set cats, maids, dogs, upon the green.
A prancing proudly!
Then, when the sheepskin cloth was spread,
Grasp at the bacon white and red,
Against the tankard knock thy head,
Or spill the gravy;
While younkers laugh'd at a' you said,
Right hum'rous Davie.
Grasp at the bacon white and red,
Against the tankard knock thy head,
Or spill the gravy;
While younkers laugh'd at a' you said,
Right hum'rous Davie.
Around thy tomb shall May-maids revel,
Scatt'ring sweet flow'rs to scare the devil,
And keep thy corse from nightly evil;
And bless the sod
Where shuffling Davie, blithe yet civil,
Lies cold as toad.
Scatt'ring sweet flow'rs to scare the devil,
And keep thy corse from nightly evil;
And bless the sod
Where shuffling Davie, blithe yet civil,
Lies cold as toad.
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