 | The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves |  |
53
COUNTRYSIDE HUMOURS
THE CONFESSION
A lovely lass with modest mien
Stole out one morning early;
The dew-drops glancing o'er the green
Made all her pathway pearly.
Young Lawrence, struck with Cupid's dart—
Cupid's dart distressing—
As through the fields he saw her start,
Sighed, “She's gone confessing!
O vo! 'twould ease my heart
To earn the father's blessing.”
Stole out one morning early;
The dew-drops glancing o'er the green
Made all her pathway pearly.
Young Lawrence, struck with Cupid's dart—
Cupid's dart distressing—
As through the fields he saw her start,
Sighed, “She's gone confessing!
O vo! 'twould ease my heart
To earn the father's blessing.”
The father with a twinkling eye,
He watched my boyo cunning,
Unnoticed by his colleen's eye,
Behind the bushes running.
“How well,” he laughed, “young Lawrence there,
After all my pressing,
With his sweetheart, I declare,
Comes at last confessing.
Oho! I'll just take care
To give the lad a lesson.”
He watched my boyo cunning,
Unnoticed by his colleen's eye,
Behind the bushes running.
“How well,” he laughed, “young Lawrence there,
After all my pressing,
With his sweetheart, I declare,
Comes at last confessing.
Oho! I'll just take care
To give the lad a lesson.”
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The pleasant priest unbarred the door,
As solemn as a shadow,
“How slow,” cried he, “you've come before,
How hot-foot, now, my laddo!
The serious steal with looks sedate,
Seeking to be shriven,
But you, you're in no fitting state
Now to be forgiven.
So, go within and wait
With all your thoughts on heaven.”
As solemn as a shadow,
“How slow,” cried he, “you've come before,
How hot-foot, now, my laddo!
The serious steal with looks sedate,
Seeking to be shriven,
But you, you're in no fitting state
Now to be forgiven.
So, go within and wait
With all your thoughts on heaven.”
The fair one, following in a while,
Made out her faults with meekness;
The priest then asked her with a smile
Had she no other weakness,
And led with that young Lawrence in;
Her cheeks were now confessing.
“Well since 'tis after all a sin
Easy of redressing,
Here, dear, I'd best begin
To give you both my blessing.”
Made out her faults with meekness;
The priest then asked her with a smile
Had she no other weakness,
And led with that young Lawrence in;
Her cheeks were now confessing.
“Well since 'tis after all a sin
Easy of redressing,
Here, dear, I'd best begin
To give you both my blessing.”
THE DISCOVERY OF WHISKEY
Beimeedh a gole!
Fill up the bowl,
Let us console
Dull care wid a glass, boys!
Shall it be wine,
Fragrant and fine
Fresh smuggled from Spain underneath a mattrass, boys!
No! all of those pleasant
Casks out of Cadiz,
Leave as a present,
Lads, for the ladies!
But for ourselves, sure, what should we say
But whiskey for ever till dawnin' of day!
Beimeedh a gole!
Fill up the bowl,
Let us console
Dull care wid a glass, boys!
Shall it be wine,
Fragrant and fine
Fresh smuggled from Spain underneath a mattrass, boys!
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Casks out of Cadiz,
Leave as a present,
Lads, for the ladies!
But for ourselves, sure, what should we say
But whiskey for ever till dawnin' of day!
Beimeedh a gole!
Beimeedh a gole!
Wasn't it droll,
He that first stole
Fire from Heav'n's grate, boys!
Look now, was left
Chained to a cleft,
A century through, for an aigle to ate, boys!
St. Pat tho', when stealin'
Fire from that quarter,
Kept it concealin'
Snug under water,
Till he'd conveyed it safe to the ground,
Then look'd, and, begorra, 'twas whiskey he found!
Beimeedh a gole!
Wasn't it droll,
He that first stole
Fire from Heav'n's grate, boys!
Look now, was left
Chained to a cleft,
A century through, for an aigle to ate, boys!
St. Pat tho', when stealin'
Fire from that quarter,
Kept it concealin'
Snug under water,
Till he'd conveyed it safe to the ground,
Then look'd, and, begorra, 'twas whiskey he found!
Beimeedh a gole!
Beimeedh a gole!
Each wid his poll
Quite in control,
For all it's containin';
Smilin' we sit,
Warmin' our wit
Wid nectar the Gods might begrudge us the drainin'.
Now ere we go snoozin'
Under the clothes,
Don't be refusin'
One health I propose;
Here's to the darlin', pale as the dew,
That pounds purple Bacchus and all of his crew!
Beimeedh a gole!
Each wid his poll
Quite in control,
For all it's containin';
Smilin' we sit,
Warmin' our wit
Wid nectar the Gods might begrudge us the drainin'.
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Under the clothes,
Don't be refusin'
One health I propose;
Here's to the darlin', pale as the dew,
That pounds purple Bacchus and all of his crew!
Beimeedh a gole!
ONE AT A TIME
As she sat spinnin' beside her door,
Sweet Kitty Kelly of Farranfore,
In dropped, as often he'd done before,
Ned Byrne, the young Schoolmaster.
He took the seat that she signed him to
And then that same to her side he drew,
When up there hurried big Tom McHugh
Who lived by lath and plaster.
He took the seat that Miss Kate supplied
And drew that same to her other side.
“Now do spake one at a time,” she cried,
“And we'll get on the faster.”
Sweet Kitty Kelly of Farranfore,
In dropped, as often he'd done before,
Ned Byrne, the young Schoolmaster.
He took the seat that she signed him to
And then that same to her side he drew,
When up there hurried big Tom McHugh
Who lived by lath and plaster.
He took the seat that Miss Kate supplied
And drew that same to her other side.
“Now do spake one at a time,” she cried,
“And we'll get on the faster.”
Says Ned, “Miss Kelly, but don't you see,
My business needs but yourself and me.”
“Then since, at present at least, we're three,
'Twill have to wait,” says Kitty.
“Now, Tom McHugh, 'tis your turn to start.”
“Well then, Miss Kitty, first come apart.”
“And hurt poor Ned to the very heart!
Your selfish plans I pity.
But since I've guessed what you're both about,
P'r'aps now 'tis best not to leave you in doubt;
So here's the whole of the murder out—
I'm promised to Daniel Whitty.”
My business needs but yourself and me.”
“Then since, at present at least, we're three,
'Twill have to wait,” says Kitty.
“Now, Tom McHugh, 'tis your turn to start.”
“Well then, Miss Kitty, first come apart.”
“And hurt poor Ned to the very heart!
Your selfish plans I pity.
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P'r'aps now 'tis best not to leave you in doubt;
So here's the whole of the murder out—
I'm promised to Daniel Whitty.”
THE KILKENNY CATS
In the dacent ould days
Before stockings or stays
Were invented, or breeches, top-boots and top-hats,
You'd search the whole sphere
From Cape Horn to Cape Clear
And never come near to the likes of our Cats
Och, tunder! och, tunder!
You'd wink wid the wonder
To see them keep under the mice and the rats;
And go wild for half shares
In the phisants and hares
They pull'd up the backstairs to provision our Pats
Och! the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's wild Cats!
Before stockings or stays
Were invented, or breeches, top-boots and top-hats,
You'd search the whole sphere
From Cape Horn to Cape Clear
And never come near to the likes of our Cats
Och, tunder! och, tunder!
You'd wink wid the wonder
To see them keep under the mice and the rats;
And go wild for half shares
In the phisants and hares
They pull'd up the backstairs to provision our Pats
Och! the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's wild Cats!
But the shame and the sin
Of the Game Laws came in,
Wid the gun and the gin of the landlord canats;
And the whole box and dice
Of the rats and the mice
Made off in a trice from our famishing Cats
What did the bastes do?
What would I or you?
Is it lie down and mew till we starved on our mats?
Not at all, faix! but fall
Small and great, great and small,
Wid one grand caterwaul on each other's cravats.
Och! the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's wild Cats!
Of the Game Laws came in,
Wid the gun and the gin of the landlord canats;
And the whole box and dice
Of the rats and the mice
Made off in a trice from our famishing Cats
What did the bastes do?
What would I or you?
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Not at all, faix! but fall
Small and great, great and small,
Wid one grand caterwaul on each other's cravats.
Och! the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's wild Cats!
And that mortial night long
We should hark, right or wrong,
To the feast and the song of them cannibal Cats,
Gladiath'rin away
Till the dawn of the day
In fifty-three sharps, semiquavers and flats
And when we went round
Wid the milk-carts we found
Scattered over the ground, like a sprinkle of sprats—
(All the rest, bit and sup,
Of themselves they'd ate up)
Only just the tip-ends of the tails of the Cats,
Of the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's quare Cats!
We should hark, right or wrong,
To the feast and the song of them cannibal Cats,
Gladiath'rin away
Till the dawn of the day
In fifty-three sharps, semiquavers and flats
And when we went round
Wid the milk-carts we found
Scattered over the ground, like a sprinkle of sprats—
(All the rest, bit and sup,
Of themselves they'd ate up)
Only just the tip-ends of the tails of the Cats,
Of the Cats of Kilkenny, Kilkenny's quare Cats!
THE JUG OF PUNCH
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon
One pleasant evening in the month of June,
A thrush sang out of an Ivy bunch
And the tune he trolled was the Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
And the tune he trolled was the Jug of Punch.
One pleasant evening in the month of June,
A thrush sang out of an Ivy bunch
And the tune he trolled was the Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
And the tune he trolled was the Jug of Punch.
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What more divarsion might a man require
Than coorting a lass o'er a nate turf fire,
With a Kerry pippin to cut and crunch,
And on the table a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
And on the table a Jug of Punch.
Than coorting a lass o'er a nate turf fire,
With a Kerry pippin to cut and crunch,
And on the table a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
And on the table a Jug of Punch.
The doctor fails with all his art
To cure an impression upon the heart;
But even the cripple forgets his hunch,
When he's snug outside of a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
When he's snug outside of a Jug of Punch.
To cure an impression upon the heart;
But even the cripple forgets his hunch,
When he's snug outside of a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
When he's snug outside of a Jug of Punch.
Let the mortial Gods drink their nectar wine,
And the quality sip their claret fine,
But I'd give you all their grapes in a bunch
For one jolly pull at a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
Oh, I'd give them all for a Jug of Punch.
And the quality sip their claret fine,
But I'd give you all their grapes in a bunch
For one jolly pull at a Jug of Punch.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
Oh, I'd give them all for a Jug of Punch.
And when I'm dead and in my grave,
No costly tombstone will I crave,
But a quiet stretch in my native peat
With a Jug of Punch at my head and feet.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
Oh, more power to your elbow, my Jug of Punch!
No costly tombstone will I crave,
But a quiet stretch in my native peat
With a Jug of Punch at my head and feet.
Tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo, tooralloo!
A Jug of Punch, a Jug of Punch,
Oh, more power to your elbow, my Jug of Punch!
60
COLONEL CARTY
When Carroll axed Kate for her heart and a hand
That held just a hundred good acres of land,
Her lovely brown eyes
Opened wide with surprise
And her lips they shot scorn at his saucy demand;
“Young Carroll Maginn, put the beard to your chin
And the change in your purse if a wife you would win.”
That held just a hundred good acres of land,
Her lovely brown eyes
Opened wide with surprise
And her lips they shot scorn at his saucy demand;
“Young Carroll Maginn, put the beard to your chin
And the change in your purse if a wife you would win.”
Then Carroll made Kate his most illigant bow
And off to The Diggin's stravaged from the plough;
Till the beard finely grown,
And the pockets full blown,
Says he, “Maybe Kate might be kind to me now!”
So home my lad came, Colonel Carty by name,
To try a fresh fling at his cruel old flame.
And off to The Diggin's stravaged from the plough;
Till the beard finely grown,
And the pockets full blown,
Says he, “Maybe Kate might be kind to me now!”
So home my lad came, Colonel Carty by name,
To try a fresh fling at his cruel old flame.
But when Colonel Carty in splendour steps in,
For all his grand airs and great beard to his chin,
“Och, lave me alone!”
Cries Kate with a groan,
“For my heart's in the grave wid poor Carroll Maginn.”
“Hush sobbin' this minute, 'tis Carroll that's in it!
I've caged you at last, then, my wild little linnet!”
For all his grand airs and great beard to his chin,
“Och, lave me alone!”
Cries Kate with a groan,
“For my heart's in the grave wid poor Carroll Maginn.”
“Hush sobbin' this minute, 'tis Carroll that's in it!
I've caged you at last, then, my wild little linnet!”
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THE ASS AND THE PETTICOAT
She hung her petticoat out to dry,
Sweet Kitty Kelly of Achonry;
When the Carroll's hungry ass came by
And made his meal upon it.
Sweet Kitty Kelly of Achonry;
When the Carroll's hungry ass came by
And made his meal upon it.
And when that same he had finished quite,
Devourin' on with all his might,
He choked to death, and sarve him right,
On Kitty's sweet sunbonnet.
Devourin' on with all his might,
He choked to death, and sarve him right,
On Kitty's sweet sunbonnet.
When Carroll found his old jackass dead,
He went completely off his head;
“The Kellys have poisoned you, poor old Ned,”
He spluttered like a porpoise.
He went completely off his head;
“The Kellys have poisoned you, poor old Ned,”
He spluttered like a porpoise.
“Such cruel murder I never saw,
The donkey's no more use than straw,
But agin you Kellys I'll have the law,
For I'll take out Habeas Corpus!”
The donkey's no more use than straw,
But agin you Kellys I'll have the law,
For I'll take out Habeas Corpus!”
And since the judges were goin' about,
The Kellys took a cross summons out
For trespass and larceny through the mout',
And they'd have no denial.
The Kellys took a cross summons out
For trespass and larceny through the mout',
And they'd have no denial.
And the Coroner, too, he came that way
And sat on the ass in a field of hay.
“'Tis felo-de-se,” says he, “I'd say;
But I'll send the case for trial.”
And sat on the ass in a field of hay.
“'Tis felo-de-se,” says he, “I'd say;
But I'll send the case for trial.”
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And when they came to the Sessions Court,
You may say that the Wig and Gown had sport!
“Ass-assination” was their report
On the poor dead brayin' varmint.
You may say that the Wig and Gown had sport!
“Ass-assination” was their report
On the poor dead brayin' varmint.
The Carrolls a farthing damages got,
But for charmin' Kitty, why should they not,
The Counsellors all subscribed on the spot
A new bonnet and under garment.
But for charmin' Kitty, why should they not,
The Counsellors all subscribed on the spot
A new bonnet and under garment.
ONE SUNDAY AFTER MASS
One Sunday after Mass,
As Lawrence and his lass
Through the green woods did pass
All alone, and all alone!
As Lawrence and his lass
Through the green woods did pass
All alone, and all alone!
Chorus
All alone, and all alone!
He asked her for a pogue,
But she called him a rogue,
And she beat him with her brogue,
Ochone and ochone!
But she called him a rogue,
And she beat him with her brogue,
Ochone and ochone!
Chorus
Ochone and ochone!63
At first my boy he bent,
As if to take, content,
His proper punishment.
Small blame too, small blame!
As if to take, content,
His proper punishment.
Small blame too, small blame!
Chorus
Small blame too, small blame!
But on her purty foot,
Unbothered by a boot,
He pressed a warm salute.
For shame! fie! for shame!
Unbothered by a boot,
He pressed a warm salute.
For shame! fie! for shame!
Chorus
For shame! fie! for shame.
Then Larry gets the worst,
For she boxed his ears at first,
Then into tears she burst,
Ochone and ochone!
For she boxed his ears at first,
Then into tears she burst,
Ochone and ochone!
Chorus
Ochone and ochone!
But soon the artful rogue
Soothed his crying colleen oge,
Till she gave him just one pogue,
All alone, and all alone!
Soothed his crying colleen oge,
Till she gave him just one pogue,
All alone, and all alone!
Chorus
All alone, and all alone!64
THE INVENTION OF WINE
As one day I was restin'
Mount Mangerton's crest on,
An ould hedge schoolmaster, so larned and fine,
My comrade on the mountain,
Began thus recountin',
In this poem so romantic, The Invention of Wine.
Mount Mangerton's crest on,
An ould hedge schoolmaster, so larned and fine,
My comrade on the mountain,
Began thus recountin',
In this poem so romantic, The Invention of Wine.
Before Bacchus could talk
Or dacently walk,
Down Olympus he leaped from the arms of his nurse;
But though three years in all
Were consumed by the fall
He might have gone further and fared a deal worse
Or dacently walk,
Down Olympus he leaped from the arms of his nurse;
But though three years in all
Were consumed by the fall
He might have gone further and fared a deal worse
For he chanced, you must know,
On a flower and fruit show,
In some parish below, at the Autumn Assizes,
Where Solon and Crœsus,
Who'd been hearin' the cases,
By the people's consint were adjudgin' the prizes.
On a flower and fruit show,
In some parish below, at the Autumn Assizes,
Where Solon and Crœsus,
Who'd been hearin' the cases,
By the people's consint were adjudgin' the prizes.
“Fruit prize Number One
There's no question upon—
We award it,” they cried, in a breath, “to—the divle!
By the powers of the delf'
On your Lowness's shelf,
Who's this Skylarking Elf wid his manners uncivil?”
There's no question upon—
We award it,” they cried, in a breath, “to—the divle!
By the powers of the delf'
On your Lowness's shelf,
Who's this Skylarking Elf wid his manners uncivil?”
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For widout even a ticket,
That Deity wicked,
Falling plump in their midst in a posture ungainly,
Pucked that bunch of prize grapes
Into all sorts of shapes
And made them two Judges go on most profanely.
That Deity wicked,
Falling plump in their midst in a posture ungainly,
Pucked that bunch of prize grapes
Into all sorts of shapes
And made them two Judges go on most profanely.
“O, the deuce!” shouted Solon,
“He's not left a whole un!”
“It's the juice thin, indeed,” echoed Crœsus, half-cryin';
For a squirt of that same,
Like the scorch of a flame,
Was playing its game the ould Patriarch's eye in.
“He's not left a whole un!”
“It's the juice thin, indeed,” echoed Crœsus, half-cryin';
For a squirt of that same,
Like the scorch of a flame,
Was playing its game the ould Patriarch's eye in.
Thin Solon said, “Tie him,
At our pleasure we'll try him.
Walk him off to the gaol, if he's able to stand it;
If not, why, thin get sure,
The loan of a stretcher,
And convey him away! Do yez hear me command it?”
At our pleasure we'll try him.
Walk him off to the gaol, if he's able to stand it;
If not, why, thin get sure,
The loan of a stretcher,
And convey him away! Do yez hear me command it?”
But Crœsus, long life to you,
Widout sorrow or strife to you,
And a peaceable wife to you, that continted you'll die!
Just thin you'd the luck
The forefinger to suck
That you'd previously stuck wid despair in your eye.
Widout sorrow or strife to you,
And a peaceable wife to you, that continted you'll die!
Just thin you'd the luck
The forefinger to suck
That you'd previously stuck wid despair in your eye.
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No more that eye hurt you—
For the excellent virtue
Of the necther you'd sipped cured its smartin' at once,
And you shouted to Solon,
“Stop your polis patrollin'!
Where's the sinse your ould poll in, you ignorant dunce?
For the excellent virtue
Of the necther you'd sipped cured its smartin' at once,
And you shouted to Solon,
“Stop your polis patrollin'!
Where's the sinse your ould poll in, you ignorant dunce?
“Is it whip into quad
A celestial God,
For I'll prove in a crack that the crayther's divine.
Look here! have a sup,”
Some more juice he sopped up
In a silver prize cup, and They First Tasted Wine
A celestial God,
For I'll prove in a crack that the crayther's divine.
Look here! have a sup,”
Some more juice he sopped up
In a silver prize cup, and They First Tasted Wine
Said Solon, “Be Japers,
Put this in the papers;
For this child wid his capers is divine widout doubt!
Let's kneel down before him,
And humbly adore him,
Then we'll mix a good jorum of the drink he's made out.”
Put this in the papers;
For this child wid his capers is divine widout doubt!
Let's kneel down before him,
And humbly adore him,
Then we'll mix a good jorum of the drink he's made out.”
Now the whole of this time
That Spalpeen Sublime
Was preparing his mind for a good coorse of howlin';
For you've noticed, no doubt,
That the childer don't shout
Till a minute or more on their heads they've been rowlin'.
That Spalpeen Sublime
Was preparing his mind for a good coorse of howlin';
For you've noticed, no doubt,
That the childer don't shout
Till a minute or more on their heads they've been rowlin'.
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“Milleah, murther!” at last
He shouted aghast,
“My blood's flowin' as fast as a fountain of wather;
It'll soon be all spilt,
And then I'll be kilt”—
Mistakin' the juice of the grapes for his slaughter.
He shouted aghast,
“My blood's flowin' as fast as a fountain of wather;
It'll soon be all spilt,
And then I'll be kilt”—
Mistakin' the juice of the grapes for his slaughter.
Thin, glancin' around,
He them gintlemen found
Their lips to the ground most adorin'ly placed,
Though I'm thinking the tipple,
Continuin' to ripple
Round that sacred young cripple, their devotion increased.
He them gintlemen found
Their lips to the ground most adorin'ly placed,
Though I'm thinking the tipple,
Continuin' to ripple
Round that sacred young cripple, their devotion increased.
“By Noah's Ark and the Flood,
They're drinking my blood.
O you black vagabones!” shouted Bacchus, “take that!”
Here wid infantile curses
He up wid his thrysus
And knocked the entire cavalcade of them flat.
They're drinking my blood.
O you black vagabones!” shouted Bacchus, “take that!”
Here wid infantile curses
He up wid his thrysus
And knocked the entire cavalcade of them flat.
But soon to his joy
That Celestial Boy,
Comprehendin' the carnage that reddened the ground,
Extendin' his pardon
To all in the garden,
Exclaimed wid a smile, as a crater he crowned—
That Celestial Boy,
Comprehendin' the carnage that reddened the ground,
Extendin' his pardon
To all in the garden,
Exclaimed wid a smile, as a crater he crowned—
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“My bould girls and boys,
Be using your eyes;
For you now recognise the god Bacchus in me.
Come, what do you say
To a slight dajoonay,
Wid cowld punch and champagne, for I'm on for a spree?”
Be using your eyes;
For you now recognise the god Bacchus in me.
Come, what do you say
To a slight dajoonay,
Wid cowld punch and champagne, for I'm on for a spree?”
So widout further pressing,
Or the bother of dressing,
Down to table they sat wid that Haythen Divine,
And began celebratin',
Wid the choicest of atin',
And drinkin' like winkin' The Invention of Wine.
Or the bother of dressing,
Down to table they sat wid that Haythen Divine,
And began celebratin',
Wid the choicest of atin',
And drinkin' like winkin' The Invention of Wine.
THE HEROES OF THE SEA
I'll tell you of a wonder that will stiffen up your hair,
That happened two poor fishermen convenient to Cape Clear.
They just had run their boat afloat, they'd hardly gripped an oar,
When their dog leapt in, their cat stepped in, that ne'er did so before.
Now what overcame the creatures to start from shore?
That happened two poor fishermen convenient to Cape Clear.
They just had run their boat afloat, they'd hardly gripped an oar,
When their dog leapt in, their cat stepped in, that ne'er did so before.
Now what overcame the creatures to start from shore?
Says one brother: “What's come o'er them two, who ne'er on land agree,
To settle up their difference a-this-way on the sea?”
“I consave,” replied the other, “'tis the portent we could wish
For a powerful take of pilchard, since that same's their favourite fish.”
'Tis a symptom, for sure, of a power of fish.
To settle up their difference a-this-way on the sea?”
69
For a powerful take of pilchard, since that same's their favourite fish.”
'Tis a symptom, for sure, of a power of fish.
Well! when the risin' moon it showed a swiftly rushin' shoal,
Their net they shot and found they'd got a purty tidy haul.
But when a dozen yards of mesh they'd plumped into the hold,
They saw their fish were fine say-rats, which made their blood run cold,
As around and around them they screeched and rolled.
Their net they shot and found they'd got a purty tidy haul.
But when a dozen yards of mesh they'd plumped into the hold,
They saw their fish were fine say-rats, which made their blood run cold,
As around and around them they screeched and rolled.
But ere each rat could rip his way from out the noosin' net,
Bedad, the jaws of Towzer or the claws of Tom he met.
Then safely our two fishermen rowed home from out the bay,
And Tom and Towzer from that time were haroes you may say,
Round about the country-side, many and many a day.
Bedad, the jaws of Towzer or the claws of Tom he met.
Then safely our two fishermen rowed home from out the bay,
And Tom and Towzer from that time were haroes you may say,
Round about the country-side, many and many a day.
| The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | |