Sorry, Kevin - the two most credible versions of the song that I found, both begin the second verse with "When home from the church they came," with no augmentation to correct meter or rhyme.

Here's the other version, from Ossian's Ballads from the Pubs of Ireland, Volume 1, by James N. Healy (pp 16-17). It's not in Healy's Mercier Press book that bears the same title.

THE TIPPERARY CHRISTENING

It was down in that place, Tipperary,
Where they're so airy, and contrary,
They cut up the divil's figary,
When they christened my beautiful boy.
When home from the church they came
With Father Tom and big Micky Brannigan
Scores of as purty boys and gerls
As ever you'd ax for to see
When baby set up such a squalling
And such a bawling and caterwauling
And the nurse on the mother was calling
There was a time 'mon um gay joy. (last line partly illegible)

In the corner the piper sat winkin,
And a-blinkin, and a-thinkin,
And a naggin of punch he was drinkin,
And wishing the parents great joy.
In flew the door and Hogan the tinker
And lathering Lanigan
Kicked up a row and wanted to know
Why they weren't axes to the spree.
And the piper his chanter was droning,
And a-groaning and a-moaning,
The old woman set up the croaning
When they christened sweet Danny the boy.

Th' aristocracy came to the party,
There was M'Carty, light and hearty,
Wid Florence Bidalia Fo-garty,
(She says that's the French for her name).
Dionaysius Alphonso Mulrooney,
Oh! so loony and so spoony,
Wid the charming Evangeline Mooney,
Of society she was the crame.
Cora Teresa Maud M'Cann.
Algeron Rourke and Lulu M'Cafferty,
Reginald Marmaduke Maurice Megan,
Clarence Ignatius M'Gurk.
Cornelius Horatio Flaherty's son,
Adelaide Grace and Doctor O'Rafferty,
Eva M'Loughlin, Cora Muldoon, and Brigadier-General Burke.
They were dancing the polka mazurka,
'Twas a worker ne'er a shirker.
The varsovianna la turker,
And the polka row-dow was divine.
They marched and then went in to luncheon,
O, such punchin', and such scrunchin',
They were busy as bees at the munchin',
Wid coffee, tay, whisky, and wine.

There was all sorts of tay, there was Schowchong,
And there was Ningyong, and there was Dingdong,
With Colong, and Toolong, Boolong,
And tay that was made in Japan,
There was sweetmeats imported from Java,
And from Guavre, and from Harve,
In the four-masted ship the Minarva,
That came from beyant Hindostan,
Cowld ice-creams and creams that was hot,
Roman punch froze up in snowballs and sparagrass,
'Patte de foi gras,' whatever that manes,
Made out of goose livers and grease.
Red-headed ducks wid salmon and peas,
Bandy-legg'd frogs and Peruvian ostriches,
Bottle-nosed pickerel, Woodcock and snipe,
And ev'rything else that would plaze,
After dinner, of course, we had spaking,
There was handshaking, there was leave-taking,
In the corner ould mothers matchmaking,
Wid other innocent sins.
And we drank a good health to each other,
Then to each brother, then to each mother,
But the last toast I thought I would smother,
When they hoped that the next would be twins.


The tunes in the Ossian books are often not quite right. I had to adjust the meter of this to make it work, and I'm still not completely happy with it.

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