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 Synge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/danny-6/
