THE IRISHMAN. BLACKWOOD.
I.
There was a lady lived at Leith,
A lady very stylish, man,
And yet, in spite of all her teeth,
She fell in love with an Irishman,
A nasty, ugly Irishman,
A wild tremendous Irishman,
A tearing, swearing, thumping, bumping, ranting, roaring Irishman.
II.
His face was no ways beautiful,
For with small-pox 't was scarred across:
And the shoulders of the ugly dog
Were almost doubled a yard across.
O the lump of an Irishman,
The whiskey devouring Irishman—
The great he-rogue with his wonderful brogue, the fighting, rioting
Irishman.
III.
One of his eyes was bottle green,
And the other eye was out, my dear;
And the calves of his wicked-looking legs
Were more than two feet about, my dear,
O, the great big Irishman,
The rattling, battling Irishman—
The stamping, ramping, swaggering, staggering, leathering swash of an
Irishman.
IV.
He took so much of Lundy-foot,
That he used to snort and snuffle—O,
And in shape and size the fellow's neck
Was as bad as the neck of a buffalo.
O, the horrible Irishman,
The thundering, blundering Irishman—
The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, thrashing, hashing Irishman.