DINNY BURNS THE PIPER

In the year 'ninety-eight when our troubles were great
It was treason to be a militian
And the Black-Whiskers said we'd never forget
And our history showed there were Hessians
In these troubled times oh it was a great crime
And murder it never was riper
Near the town of Glensheed, not an acre from Meath
Lived one Dinny Byrnes, a piper

Neither wedding nor wake would be worth a shake
If Dinny was first not invited
For at squeezin' the bags or emptyin' the kegs
He astonished as well as delighted
But in these times Dinny could not earn a penny
Martial Law had him stung like a viper
And it kept him within till the bones of his skin
Grinned through the rags of the piper

Well one day it did dawn as Dinny crept home
Back from a fair at Lafangen
When what should he see from the branch of a tree
But the corpse of a Hessian there hangin'
Says Dinny, These rogues have got boots - I've no brogues
He took hold of the boots with a gryper
And the boots were so tight and he pulled with such might
Legs and all came away with the piper

Ah then Dinny did run for fear of bein' hung
Till he came to Tim Halley's cabin
Says Tim from within, I can't let you in
You'll be shot if you're caught out there rappin'
So he went to the shed where the cow was in bed
He began with a wisp for to wipe her
And they lay down together in seven foot of heather
And the cow took to huggin' the piper

Well the day it wore on and Dinny did yawn
Then he stripped off the boots from the Hessian
And the legs, by the law, he just left in the straw
Then he slipped home with his new possessions
Now breakfast bein' done, Tim sent his young son
To get Dinny up like a lamplighter
When the legs there he saw he flew up like a jackdaw
And said, Daddy, the cow's ate the piper

Ah bad luck to that baste, she'd no musical taste
To eat such a jolly ould chanter
A pha'd raig a mhic, take a lump of a stick
Drive her off down the road and we'll canter
Well the neighbours were called, Mrs. Kennedy bawled
She began for to humbug and gyper
And in sorrow they met and their whistles they wet
And like divvils lamented the piper

Then the cow she was drove a mile or two off
Till they came to a fair at Killaly
And there she was sold for four guineas in gold
To the clerk of the parish, Sean Daly
Then they went to the tent where the pennies were spent
(Tim bein' a jolly ould swiper)
And who should be there playin' The Rakes of Kildare
Just your bold Dinny Byrnes, the piper

Ah then Tim gave a jolt like a half-drunken colt
And he stares at the piper like a gamuck
I thought, by The Powers, for the last eight hours
You were playin' in the ould cow's stomach
Well when Dinny observed that the Hessians bein' served
Began just to humbug and gyper
Oh in grandeur they met and their whistles they wet
And like divvils they danced round the piper

Listed as Trad in my book, I suppose somebody must have written it.