Classic Poem

Do ye know Oughterard with the stream running through it;
The bridge that falls down on one side like a hill;
The trees and the pleasant, respectable houses;
The white waterfall and the old ruinèd mill?

God be with the night when I drank there wid Sweeney
Till he brought the “special” from under the floor
And dawn came in square through the bar-parlour window;
And “Jaze us!” Sez Sweeney “It's twenty past four!”

In old Oughterard I could get on quite nicely,
For there I know decent, remarkable men:
Jim Sweeney, the Sergeant and Fr. McNulty
Who took the first prize with his running dog “Finn.”

Bad cess to the seas and bad cess to the causeways
That keep me from goin' back homeward once more
To lean on the bridge and gaze down at the goslings,
And get a “Good morrow” from black Morty Mor.