Noreen of Ballybree

I SAILED in me fine new hooker
To Ballybree, over the bay,
Where Noreen O'Regen, me ould love,
Is livin' this many a day.

('Twas Noreen took up wid a poacher,
A Ballybree blade called Neal,
Wid niver a ham nor a hare-skin
But what the poor habbage could steal!)

And Noreen I found, faith, wid childer'
As thick as the hairs on a goat,
All squealin' and crowdin' like rabbits
While I showed her me jule av a boat!

" But have ye no wife nor childer'? "
Says she, wid a perk av the head,
(And her bosom as flat as a deck-board,
And her brats all squealin' for bread!)

" Och, sailin', " says she, " may be sailin',
But when it's all shpoken and done,
'Tis us wid our fine homes and childer'
Are livin' and havin' our fun! "