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The Tender Passion

From The Washington Times, May 29, 1913.
 By Eugene Geary.

 Pat Clancy’s in love! He’s a sight to behold;
     An’ his life—he wants some wan to fill it.
 Instead o’ being crowded wid blessin’s untold,
     ’Tis as empty an’ dry as a skillet.
 A short while ago he was gay as a lark,
     An’ the boss was his wages advancin’;
 Till he strolled of a Sunday to see Celtic Park
     An’ join in the games an’ the dancin’.
 ’Twas when he took part in an eight-handed reel
     And danced, as they all tell me, so splendid,
 His head remained clear, not to mention his heel,
     But his heart was clean gone when ’twas ended.
 A pair o’ blue eyes was Pat Clancy’s downfall;
     ’Tis a sorrowful mortal they’ve made him.
 He’s cut all his friends an’ relations an’ all,
     An’ he won’t take a drink if you paid him.
 The boss of his gang, from the town o’ Kanturk
     Don’t know what to make out o’ Clancy;
 Says the divil himself couldn’t keep him to work
     Wid sighin’ for the girl of his fancy.
 An’ ’tis all for a purty young colleen from Clare—
     She hails from the border of Ennis.
 Well, if that’s what’s called love, for my part I declare
     Sure I’d rather have spinal magennis.

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