Classic Poem

( Air : " Molly Brannigan")

Man dear, did you never hear of buxom Molly Bloom at all,
As plump an Irish beauty, Sir, as any Levi-Blumenthal?
If she sat in the viceregal box Tim Healy'd have no room at all,
But curl up in a corner at a glance from her eye.

The tale of her ups and downs would aisy fill a handybook
That would cover the two worlds at once from Gibraltar 'cross to Sandy Hook.
But now that tale is told, ochone, I've lost my daring dandy look:
Since Molly Bloom has left me here alone for to cry.

Man dear, I remember when my roving time was troubling me
We picknicked fine in storm or shine in France and Spain and Hungary
And she said I'd be her first and last while the wine I poured went bubbling free
Now every male you meet with has a finger in her pie.
Man dear, I remember with all the heart and brain of me
I arrayed her for the bridal but, O, she proved the bane of me.
With more puppies sniffing round her than the wooers of Penelope
She's left me on her doorstep like a dog for to die.

My left eye is wake and his neighbour full of water, man.
I cannot see the lass I limned as Ireland's gamest Daughter, man,
When I hear her lovers tumbling in their thousands for to court her, man,
If I was sure I'd not be seen I'd sit down and cry.
May you live, may you love like this gaily spinning earth of ours,
And every morn a gallant sun awake you with new wealth of gold
But if I cling like a child to the clouds that are your petticoats
O Molly, handsome Molly, sure you won't let me die!