He courts and he marries, he drinks and he fights
For love—all for love—for in that he delights,
With his sprig of shillelah, and shamrock so green.
Who has e’er had the luck to see Donnybrook fair?
An Irishman all in his glory is there,
With his sprig of shillelah and shamrock so green;
His clothes spick and span new, without e’er a speck,
A neat Barcelona tied round his neck;
He goes to his tent, and spends his half-crown,
He meets with a friend who for love knocks him down,