One night a score of Erris men, <br /> A score I'm told and nine, <br /> Said, "We'll get shut of Danny's noise <br /> Of girls and widows dyin'. <br /> <br /> "There's not his like from Binghamstown <br /> To Boyle and Ballycroy, <br /> At playing hell on decent girls, <br /> At beating man and boy. <br /> <br /> "He's left two pairs of female twins <br /> Beyond in Killacreest, <br /> And twice in Crossmolina fair <br /> He's struck the parish priest. <br /> <br /> "But we'll come round him in the night <br /> A mile beyond the Mullet; <br /> Ten will quench his bloody eyes, <br /> And ten will choke his gullet." <br /> <br /> It wasn't long till Danny came, <br /> From Bangor making way, <br /> And he was damning moon and stars <br /> And whistling grand and gay. <br /> <br /> Till in a gap of hazel glen -- <br /> And not a hare in sight -- <br /> Out lepped the nine-and-twenty lads <br /> Along his left and right. <br /> <br /> Then Danny smashed the nose of Byrne, <br /> He split the lips on three, <br /> And bit across the right hand thumb <br /> Of one Red Shawn Magee. <br /> <br /> But seven tripped him up behind, <br /> And seven kicked before, <br /> And seven squeezed around his throat <br /> Till Danny kicked no more. <br /> <br /> Then some destroyed him with their heels, <br /> Some tramped him in the mud, <br /> Some stole his purse and timber pipe, <br /> And some washed off his blood. <br /> <br />. . . . <br /> <br /> And when you're walking out the way <br /> From Bangor to Belmullet, <br /> You'll see a flat cross on a stone <br /> Where men choked Danny's gullet.<br /><br />John Millington (J.M.) Synge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/danny/
