Harris and the Mare

Harris my old friend, good to see your face again

More welcome though the trap and that old mare

For the wife is in a swoon, and I am all alone

Harris fetch your mare and take us home

The wife and I came out for a quiet glass of stout

And a word or two with neighbors in the room

But young Cleary he came in, as wild and drunk as sin

And swore the wife would leave the place with him

But the wife, as quick as thought, said no I'll bloody not

And the struck the brute a blow about the head

He raised his ugly paw and lashed her on the jaw

And she fell upon the floor like she were dead

Now Harris well you know I've never struck a angry blow

Nor would I keep a friend who raised his hand

I was a conshie in the war, crying "What the hell's this for?"

But I had to see his blood to be a man

I took him by the coat, spun him round and took his throat

And I beat his head upon the parlour floor

He dragged out an awful knife and he roared "I'll have your life"

Then he struck me and I fell upon the floor

Blood I was from neck to thigh, a bloody murder in his eye

As he shouted out "I'll finish you for sure"

But as the knife came down, I lashed out from the ground

And the knife was in his breast when he rolled o'er

With the wife as cold as clay I carried her away

No hand was raised to help us through the door

And I've brought her half a mile, but I had to rest a while

And none of them I'll call a friend no more

For when the knife came down I was helpless on the ground

No neighbor stayed his hand, I was alone

By God, I was a man, but now I cannot stand

Harris fetch your mare and take us home

Now Harris fetch your mare and take us out of here

In my nine and fifty years I'd never known

That to call myself a man for my loved one I must stand

Harris fetch your mare and take us home