Nell Flaherty's drake


Oh, my name it is Nell, quite candid I tell
And I lived in Coote Hill, which I’ll never deny
I had a large drake, and I’d die for his sake
Which my grandmother left me, and she going to die
He was wholesome and sound; he weighed twenty pound
And the universe ’round, I would rove for his sake
Bad luck to the robber, be he drunk or sober
That murdered Nell Flaherty’s beautiful drake

His neck it was green, most fit to be seen
He was fit for a Queen of the highest degree
His body so white, it would give you delight
He was fat, plump and heavy, and brisk as a bee
My dear little fellow, his legs, they were yellow
He would fly like a swallow, and swim like a hake
Until some dirty savage, to grease his white cabbage
Most wantenly murdered my beautiful drake

May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt
May a ghost always haunt him in the dead of the night
May his hen never lay, may horse never nay
May his goat fly away like an old paper kite
May the flies and the fleas, the wretch ever tease
May the piercing March breeze make him shiver and shake
May the hump of a stick raise the lumps fast and thinck
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s Drake

May his cock never crow, may his bellows ne’er blow
And a-pot or po, may he never have one
May his cradle not rock, may his box have no lock
May his wife have no smock to shield her back bone
May his duck never quack, and his goose turn quite black
And pull down the turf with his long yellow beak
May scurvy and itch, not depart from the breech
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s Drake

May his pipe never smoke, may his teapot be broke
And to add to the joke may his kettle not boil
May he lay in the bed ’till the moment he’s dead
May he always be fed on lob-scouse and fish oil
May he swell with the gout, may his grinders fall out
May he roar, bawl and shout, with the horrid toothache
May his temples wear horns, and all his toes corns
The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s drake

May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig
May each hair on his wig be well thrashed with a flail
May his door have no thatch and his roof have no thatch
Nay his turkey not hatch, may the rats eat his meal
May every old fairy fiom Cork to Dunleary
Dip him in snug and easy in river or lake
That the eel and the trout may dine on the snout
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s Drake

May his dog yelp and growl with hunger and cold
May his wife always scold ’till his brain goes astray
May the curse of each hag, that e’er carried a bag
Alight on his nag till his beard, it turns grey
May monkeys still bite him, and man-apes affright him
And everyone slight him asleep or awake
May weasels still gnaw him, and jackdaws still claw him
The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s Drake

Then all the good news l have to diffuse
‘Tis for Peter Hughes, and blind Peter McFree
There’s big nosed Bob Manson, and buck-toothed Ned Hanson
Each man has a grandson of my darling Drake
My fellow had dozens of nephews and cousins
And one I must get or my heart it will break
To keep my mind easy or else l’ll run crazy
So this ends the song of Nell Flaherty’s Drake