Oh!  Whistlin’ Phil McHugh,

Has come over from Bunlaghy,

An’ we don’t know what’s to come to

Little Mary Ann Mulcahy,

For ever since the day

That Phil he came a whistlin’,

She stands in the doorway

An’ she’s waitin’ an’ she’s lishnin’.


OH!  Mary you’re contrary.

Come in and shut the door;

Phil’s a rover, sure ‘tis over,

And he’ll not come back, asthore.

But she’s lishnin’ for the whistlin’

And she’s waitin’ by the shore,

For that arrum to be warrum

Round her waist once more.

There’s Thady of the Cows.

Sure you know “Ten-acre Thady,”

Wid his fine new slated house

He’d make her quite the lady,

But Thady needn’t stay,

And there’s no use his inthragin’,

For her heart is far away

‘Tis wid Phil Mchugh stravagin’.


There’s Danny Michael Dan,

Who is six fut in his stockin’s,

A very proper man,

But she never heeds his knockin’s

She’ll keep him standin’ there

For three quarthers of a minit,

But she’s racin’ like a hare

When she thinks that Phil is in it.


‘Tis wisdom’s golden rule

I do teach her till I tire,

That every girl’s a fool,

Ay, and every man’s a liar.

What’s that you say you hear,

That’s set you all a thrimbly?

‘Tis but the wind, I fear,

That is whistlin’ down the chimbly.


Oh!  Mary you’re contrary,

Come in and bar the door;

What’s that scufflin’?

Phil, you ruffian!

Sure I knew he’d come, asthore.

She’s been settin’ there and frettin’

But now her greivin’s o’er;

And the singin’ will be ringin’

In her heart once more!

French, Percy. (1980) ‘Prose, Poems & Parodies.’  Dublin, Helicon Limited