7
You'll ne'er hear a murmur from Darby M.Shane.
May England ne'er want the brave boys of the sod,
To carry the musket, or carry the hod;
As for Ireland, where wholesome shilelah does
grow,
There the devil himself in the shape of a foe,
Would get decently lather'd by Darby M Shane.
———
BE A GOOD BOY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
WHEN I was at home with my father and mother,
I bate the old couple and Thady my brother,
At larning I mane! for I handled my spade,
And nately I follow'd the turf-cutting trade.
But ould father Murphy, our parish director,
He now and then gave me a bit of a lecture,
“Arrah, Barney," said he, "you're a frolicksome
elf,
But be a good boy, and take care of yourself.”
With your toorle lol, toorle lol, toorle lol loo.
Toorle lol, toorle lol, toorle lol, toorle lol loo.
My Judy I lov'd, and oft gave her a kiss,
"Tie, Barney," says she, but ne'er took it amiss.
One night I took leave, says I, Juddy I'm off;"
But heard, as I thought, in the closet a cough;
So I opened the door, and I star'd like a pig,
There stood ould father Murphy, without hat or
wig!
"Arrah, father," says I, "you're a frolicksome
elf,
But be a good boy, and take care of yourself.”
I was going, but ould father Murphy cried, "Stay!
We'll settle this matter, I'll tell you the way;
