Of Certain Irish Fairies

The Leprechaun--the omadhaun!--that lives in County Clare,
Is one foot wide and three feet high without an inch to spare.
He winks the sea-blue eye of him, like other saucy rogues,
And underneath the blackthorn-bush he sits to clout his brogues.
Then, if you catch the Leprechaun and never loose your hold,
He's bound to show you where he's hid a pot of yellow gold,
And give you, too, a fairy purse with tassels down the end,
That's never bare, but always full, no matter what you spend.
'Tis I would catch the Leprechaun--and then what would I do?
I'd take the yellow gold, machree, and give it all to you!
 
The Cluricawne of Monaghan is mighty seldom seen;
He wears a crimson swallow-tail, a vest of apple-green
And shiny shoes with buckles, too, and silver ones at that,
And on his curly head, askew he claps a steeple-hat.
'Tis I would catch the Cluricawne--and why? Because he knows
The only spot in Erin where the four-leafed shamrock grows--
The shamrock that the fairies tend, that does not grow from seed;
'Twill bring you health and wealth and love--though 'tis not love you need--
And ribbons, laces, brooches, rings, or anything you name.
So when I've caught the Cluricawne, 'tis you shall have the same.
 
The Leprechaun and Cluricawne are clever little men,
Yet will I catch them, by and by; but need we wait till then?
My breast is warm to nestle you, my arms are strong to hold,
Our youth is richer spending-stuff than any elfin gold,
My heart it is a fairy purse of wealth without an end,
That's brimming full of love for you, no matter what you spend.
"And what's the shamrock, then?" say you. What else, for me, indeed,
But you!--since if I have yourself, there's nothing more I'll need.
And by St. Patrick's kettledrum that drove the snakes below,
I'll catch you, like the Leprechaun, but never let you go!