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LARRY MCHALE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Oh, larry m'hale he had little to fear
Last Line: If we only had plenty, like larry m'hale.


OH! Larry M'Hale he had little to fear,
And never could want when the crops didn't fail;
He'd a house and demesne and eight hundred a year,
And the heart for to spend it, had Larry M'Hale!

The soul of a party -- the life of a feast,
And an illigant song he could sing, I'll be bail;
He would ride with the rector, and drink with the priest,
Oh! the broth of a boy was old Larry M'Hale.

It's little he cared for the judge or recorder,
His house was as big and as strong as a jail;
With a cruel four-pounder, he kept all in great order,
He'd murder the country, would Larry M'Hale.

He'd a blunderbuss too; of horse pistols a pair;
But his favourite weapon was always a flail;
I wish you could see how he'd empty a fair,
For he handled it nately, did Larry M'Hale.

His ancestors were kings before Moses was born;
His mother descended from great Grana Uaile;
He laughed all the Blakes and the Frenches to scorn;
They were mushrooms compared to old Larry M'Hale.

He sat down every day to a beautiful dinner,
With cousins and uncles enough for a tail;
And, though loaded with debt, oh! the devil a thinner
Could law or the sheriff make Larry M'Hale.

With a larder supplied, and a cellar well stored,
None lived half so well from Fair-Head to Kinsale,
And he piously said, 'I've a plentiful board,
And the Lord he is good to old Larry M'Hale.'

So fill up your glass, and a high bumper give him,
It's little we'd care for the tithes or repale;
For ould Erin would be a fine country to live in,
If we only had plenty, like Larry M'Hale.





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