Father O'Flynn

Of priests we can offer a charmin' variety, Far renowned for larnin' and piety; Still, I'd advance ye, widout impropriety, Father O'Flynn as the flower of them all.


 * Chorus

Here's a health to you, Father O'Flynn, Slainté, and slainté, and slainté agin; Powerfulest preacher, and Tenderest teacher, and Kindliest creature in ould Donegal.

Don't talk of your Provost and Fellows of Trinity, Famous for ever at Greek and Latinity, Dad and the divels and all at Divinity, Father O'Flynn 'd make hares of them all! Come, I venture to give you my word, Never the likes of his logic was heard, Down from Mythology Into Thayology, Troth! and Conchology if he'd the call.


 * Chorus

Och! Father O'Flynn, you've the wonderful way wid you, All ould sinners are wishful to pray wid you, All the young childer are wild for to play wid you, You've such a way wid you, Father avick! Still for all you've so gentle a soul, Gad, you've your flock in the grandest control; Checking the crazy ones, Coaxin' onaisy ones, Liftin' the lazy ones on wid the stick.


 * Chorus

And though quite avoidin' all foolish frivolity, Still at all seasons of innocent jollity, Where was the play-boy could claim an equality At comicality, Father, wid you? Once the Bishop looked grave at your jest, Till this remark set him off wid the rest: "Is it lave gaiety All to the laity? Cannot the clargy be Irishmen too?"


 * Chorus