The Dingle Puck Goat

I am a old jobber both foolish and airy, The green hills of Kerry I long for to see; I went back to Dingle to buy in some cattle And wait till I tell you what happened to me. I entered the Fair of a Saturday morning, The first thing I met was a long legged goat. Says I to meself, to commence at me dealing; Bedad, my bould hero, you're worth a pound note. So I made my approach to the owner that held him, And a bargain we stook there without much delay, He said, "If you lend me down twenty two shillings Some advice I will give you before you'll go away; This daring old hero was reared on the mountain In the year '64 he was pushed heal to drill, But some of his comrades were hung and transported, Now he's determined some blood for to spill." The old man was parting and I was for starting, But the words that he told me put me in dismay, The first jump he gave he near broke my left arm, So I jumped on his back and caught hold of his manes, Says I, my bold ranger on your back I am now landed, And if I don't fall off you may go where you will, But he ran down the streets like a Pooka distracted And soon made his way up towards old Connor Hill. When we came into Brandon I thought it was London. I regretted my journey when I saw the sea; But he jumped in the water and swam out across her, And towards Castlegregory, he made a near way. The waves of the ocean put me in emotion The fishes they ate all the nails in my toes, A long headed mackerel jumped up at my nostrils And he nearly made away with the half of me nose. When he came to the land now he hastily galloped And towards Lough Nagaelted and then he did steer; Through Milltown, Killorglin and into Killarney And he never cried crack till he came to Kenmare! Then at last the goat spoke! Saying "We passed our Headquarters, Were my old ancestors always have been We'll go back there now and we'll take up our lodgings Collegeen-na-Gour where there's plenty of poteen. To the town of Tralee now we next took his rambles He was anxious I think some more sport for to see, Twas outside the town that we met some Highlanders! He opt with his hardens and tore all their clothes! The Highlanders yelled and roared melee murder, Called for the peelers to take him to jail, The whole of the force they were coming around him But me hero he turned and he shortened his tail! He jumped on a basin and I fell on the footway Away went me goat and I saw him no more Perhaps he's gone back to the place he belongs to Or maybe he steered for some far distant shore But if he's alive he's in comfort in Bandon Away in the mountains or somewhere remote But while I'm alive I've a story worth telling Of me rambles round Kerry and the Dingle Puck Goat