Murphy Delaney/Murphy Delaney

MURPHY DELANEY.

Tune—“ The Priest in his boots.

It was Murphy Delaney, so funny and frisky,
⁠Reel’d into a shebeen to get his skin full,
And popp’d out again, pretty well lin’d with whisky,
⁠As fresh as a shamrock, and blind as a bull,
When a trifling accident happen’d our rover,
⁠Who took the quay-side for the floor of his shed,
And the keel of a coal-barge he just tumbled over,
⁠And thought all the while he was going to bed.
And sing phililu, hubbubboo, whack boderation,
Everyman in his humour, as Teague kiss’d the pig.

Some folks passing by, pull’d him out of the river
⁠And got a horse-doctor his sickness to mend,
Who swore that poor Murph’ was no longer a liver,
⁠But dead as a devil, and there was an end.
Then they sent for the coroner’s jury to try him;
⁠But Murph’ not much liking this comical strife,
Fell to twisting and turning the while they sat by him,
And came, when he found it convenient to life.
⁠And sing phililu, &c.

Says he to the jury,—Your worships a’nt please ye,
⁠I don’t think I’m dead yet, so what is’t you do?
Not dead! says the foreman, you spalpeen be easy,
⁠Don’t you think but the doctor knows better than you?
So then they went on with the business some further,
⁠And examin’d the doctor about his belief;
When they brought poor Delaney in guilty of murder,
⁠And swore they would hang him in spite of his teeth.
⁠And sing phililu, &c.

Then Murphy laid hold of a climsy chillelah,
⁠And laid on the doctor as sly as a post,
Who swore but it couldn’t be Murphy Delaney,
⁠But something alive, so it must be his ghost.
Then the jury began, joy, with fear to survey him
⁠Whilst he like a devil about him did lay,
And sent straight out of- hand for the clargy to lay him;
But Murph’ laid the clargy, and then ran away.
⁠and sing phililu, &c.