Shelagh O'Neal

Oft, oft, I went to her, to sigh and to woo her;

Of mighty fine things did I say a great deal;

Above all the rest, what still pleas'd her the best,

Was, "Och! will you marry me, Shelah O'Neal?"

My point I soon carried, for fast we got married;

The weight o' my bargain I then 'gan to feel;

She scolded and fisted, O then I enlisted,

Left Ireland, and whisky, and Shelah O'Neal.

But tir'd and dull-hearted, my corps I deserted,

And fled off to regions far distant from home,

To Frederick's army, where nought was to harm me,

Not the devil himself, in the shape of a bomb.

I fought ev'ry battle, where cannon did rattle,

Felt sharp shot, alas! and their sharp-pointed steel;

But in all the wars round, thank my stars, I ne'er found

Aught so sharp as thy tongue, O curs'd Shelah O'Neal!