From the Bodleian broadside collection, Harding B 26(619):


THE SPALPEEN'S COMPLAINT OF DARBY O'LEARY.

One evening of late as I happened to stray,
To the County Tipperary, I straight took my way.
To dig the potatoes or work by the day,
I hired with a Galbally farmer.
I asked him how far he bound for to go,
The night being dark and the north winds did blow;
"Sirs, I am fatigued and my spirits are low
I can neither drink whiskey or cordial."

This crafty old miser, he mounted his steed.
To the Galbally mountains he posted with speed.
I certainly thought my poor heart it would bleed
To trudging along with that miser.
When I came to his cottage, I entered it first.
It appeared like a kennel or old preaching church.
Now then I said, "I am left in the lurch,
Contented with Darby O'Leary."

I recollect very well 'twas on a Michaelmas night.
To a hearty good supper he did me invite:
A cup of sour milk that was would poison a snipe,
Or give you the trotting disorder.
The milk was so sour it would poison the cats.
Likewise his old barn was covered with rats.
'Tis little I thought it would ever be my lot
To lie with his tribe until morning.

By what he had said, I then understood.
The covering there it was not very good.
The blanket was made since the time of the Flood,
The quilt and the sheets in proportion.
It was on this old miser I looked with a frown
While he was preparing for me the shake-down.
I wish I never saw Galbally town
Or the sky over Darby O'Leary.

I worked in Kilconnel. I worked in Killmore.
I worked in Knockany and Shanballymore,
In Pallas-a-Nicker and Soliheadmore
With decent respectable farmers.
I worked in Tipperary, the Rag, and Rose Green,
At the Mount of Killfeale and Bridge of Aleen,
But woeful starvation I never yet seen
As I got from old Darby O'Leary.

So now to conclude and to finish my song,
May he or his offsprings never live long.
May the offspring of Luther or some of his clan,
That did spread all over this nation.
But if you were forced to travel to Cork,
To seek for employment with spade, shovel or fork,
That some whirlwind may ship you off to New York
If you work for old Darby O'Leary.