On the green banks of Shannon, when Shelah was nigh, No blythe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went, was my poor dog Tray. When, at last, I was forced from my Shelah to part, She said--while the sorrow was big in her heart,-- “Oh, remember your Shelah, when far, far away, And be kind, my dear Pat, to my poor dog Tray.” Poor dog, he was faithful and kind, to be sure; And he constantly loved me, although I was poor, When the sour-looking folks sent me heartless away, I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray. When the road was so dark, and the night was so cold, And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old, How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray, And he lick’d me for kindness--my poor dog Tray. Though my wallet was scant, I remember’d his case, Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face; But he died at my feet on a cold winter’s day, And I play’d a lament for my poor dog Tray. Where now shall I go--poor, forsaken, and blind? Can I find one to guide me so faithful and kind? To my sweet native village so far, far away, I can ne’er more return with my poor dog Tray. Unhappy Jeremiah. 69 I’d often heard of married life, of pleasures without equal, So I resolved to take a wife, but only mark the sequel. But while my sorrows I relate, don’t try to raise my ire, For oh, I’ve often cursed the fate of unhappy Jeremiah. I courted Jane, the milliner, her parents were my betters, But soon I had enough of her, when fast bound in wedlock fetters. For we had a boarder of our own, a man she did admire, And oft with him she’d be alone in spite of Jeremiah. Remonstrating was all in vain, she’d always be my master, And if I tried to stop her tongue, ’twas sure to run the faster. One day she ask’d this man to tea, she told me to retire, I left her sitting on his knee, what a treat for Jeremiah! Now we had two children of our own, and oft I had to mind ’em, And when she walk’d with other men, I had to walk behind ’em. But what is more to my disgrace, oh, lord, I feel on fire, The children didn’t look in the face a bit like Jeremiah. Oh, I’d been to work quite hard one day, when to my home returning, I found my wife had ran away, and all my offers spurning. Of reason I was near bereft, folks thought I would expire, For oh, she took the goods and left the brats for Jeremiah. Happy Hezekiah. Old Jeremiah you have heard so oft relate his troubles, He told that married life was nothing but a bubble. Now to confute this calumny, it is my heart’s desire, So list you while I sing the luck of happy Hezekiah.