His body was white—and would you delight—
He was plump, fat and heavy, and brisk as a bee.
The dear little fellow, his legs they were yellow,
He would fly like a swallow and dive like a hake,
But some wicked savage, to grease his white cabbage,
Has murdered Nell Flaherty’s beautiful drake.
May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt,
May a ghost ever haunt him at dead of the night;
May his hen never lay, may his ass never bray,
May his goat fly away like an old paper kite.