The Polly privateer/Dennis Delany

DENNIS DELANY.

IN sweet Tipperary, the pride of the throng,
I have danc'd a good jig and have sung a good song;
On the green where I caper'd I scarce bent the grass,
То my bottle a friend, and no foe to a lass:

At hurling, my fellow could never be found,
For whoe’er I jostled soon came to the ground;
And the girls all swore they never met any
Could tickle their fancy like Dennis Delany.

With my whack about, see it out, Dennis my jewel,
Ah! why will you leave us? how can you be so cruel
Paddy Whack may good trudge it with Muttagh O’ Blaney,
We’ll part with them all for you, Dennis Delany.

Young Sheela O‘Shannon, who was so fond of me,
That whenever we meet we could never agree:
Says I, my dear Sheela, we’ll soon end the fray,
For no longer in sweet Tipperary I’ll stay;
When the girls all found I was going to leave them,
They swore that from death Father John cou’d not save them;
They would part with relations, tho’ ever so many,
If I’d let them go with me, sweet Dennis Delany.
With my whack about, &c.

To the road then I went, and I trudg’d it along,
And by way of being silent I lilted a song;
Hey for Dublin, says I, where I’ll see some fine lasses
Get married and drunk, nor e’er mind how time passes;
But when I arriv’d, and found every lady
Short-waisted—thinks I, they are married already;
By my soul now, says I, marriage here is the fashion,
To get young recruits for the good of the nation.
With my whack, &c.

To the grand Panorama that every one talks of,
Away then I goes, and immediately walks off;
Where I was astonished as much as e’er man was
To see a sea-fight on an ocean of canvas;
But some were a-weeping, and some were a-wailling
Where London stood once to see ships now a-sailling
But what in my mind made it still seem the stranger
Tho' I stood in the midst I was still out of danger
With my whack, &c.

As I came back again then, quite sober and steady
I met three or four buckeens attacking a lady,
With my slip of shillelah I made them forbear,
For an Irishman always will fight for the fair;
But the police they call’d, who came great and small
Devil burn me, says I, but I'll leather you all;
And tho' still I was fighting, yet this I will say,
They were tight active fellows at running away.
With my whack, &c.

Then to see a fine play that I ne’er saw before,
To Crow-street I went with three or four more,
And up stairs I walked to see things the better,
The play-bill I bought, tho' I knew not a letter,
But the crowd was so great, and the players so fun
I laugh'd more, I'm sure, than the worth of my money
Altho' with their noise they set me nearly quite mad
When the boys above stairs call’d for Moll in the Wad
With my whack, &c.

F I N I S