Well, he lives up the lane, by the side of Lug Dhu,
And the dickens a ha’porth in life does he do,
But breaking the hearts of the girls all around—
Not a single one, whole and entire, can be found.
For he is the boy that can lilt up a tune—
Troth, you’d think ’twas the fairies were singing “Da Luan.”
Oh! your feet would go jigging in spite of yourself
If you heard the fife played by that musical elf.
One fine evening young Darby came up to our house,
And indeed the poor boy was as mute as a mouse,