My name it is Nell, quite candid I tell,
That I live near Coote hill, I will never deny;
I had a fine drake, the truth for to spake,
That my grandmother left me and she going to die;
He was wholesome and sound, he would weigh twenty pound,
The universe round I would rove for his sake—
Bad wind to the robber—be he drunk or sober—
That murdered Nell Flaherty’s beautiful drake.
His neck it was green—most rare to be seen,
He was fit for a queen of the highest degree;