POETRY.
FATHER O'FLYNN.
Kerry Air.
OF priests we can offer a charmin' variety, Far renowned for larnin' and piety, Still, I'd advance ye widout impropriety, Father O'Flynn as the flower of them all.
Chorus.—Here's a health to you, Father O'Flynn,
Slainte, and slainte, and slainte agin, Powerfulest preacher, and Tinderest teacher, and Kindliest creature in ould Donegal.
Don't talk of your Provost and Fellows of Trinity, Famous for ever at Greek and Latinity, Faix and the divels and all at divinity, Father O'Flynn 'd make hares of them all.
Come, I vinture to give ye my word, Never the likes of his logic was heard, Doun from mythology Into Thayology, Troth ! and Conchology, if he'd the call.
Chorus.—Here's a health to you, &o.
Och I Father O'Flynn, you've the wonderful way wi l you, All ould sinners are wishful to pray wid you, All the young childer are wild for to play wid you, You've such a way wid you, father, avick ! Still, for all you've so gintle a soul, Gad I you've your flock in the grandest control, Checking the crazy wans, Coaxin' onaisy wans, Liftin' the lazy wans on wid the stick. Chorus.—Here's a health to you, &c.
And though quite avoidin' all foolish frivolity, Still at all saisons of innocent jollity, Where was the play-boy could claim an equality At comicality, father, wid you ?
Once the Bishop looked grave at your jest, Till this remark set him off wid the rest,- " Is it lave gaiety
All to the laity,—
Cannot the Clergy be Irishmen too ?"
THE AUTHOR. OF "SONGS OF KILLARNEY."
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