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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 405 |
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May his pipe never smoke, may his teapot be broke,
And to add to the joke, may his kettle ne'er boil; May he keep to the bed till the hour that he's dead,
May he always be fed on hogwash and boiled oil. May he swell with the gout, may his grinders fall out,
May he roll, howl and shout with the horrid toothache; May the temples wear horns, and the toes many corns,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake. |
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May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig, May each hair in his wig be well thrashed with a flail; May his door have no latch, may his house have no thatch, May his turkey not hatch, may the rats eat his meal. May every old fairy, from Cork to Dunleary,
Dip him snug and airy in river or lake, Where the eel and the trout may feed on the snout Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake.
May his dog yelp and howl with the hunger and could,
May his wife always scold till his brains go astray; May the curse of each hag that e'er carried a bag
Alight on the vag, till his hair turns gray. May monkeys affright him, and mad dogs still bite him,
And every one slight him, asleep or awake; May weasels still gnaw him, and jackdaws still claw him —
The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake. |
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