“Sure, I’ve got rings on my fingers, bells on my toes,
Elephants to ride upon, my little Irish Rose.
So come to your nabob, and next Patrick’s Day,
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jijiboo J. O’Shea.”
O’er the sea went Rose McGee to see her nabob grand.
He sat within his palanquin and when she’d kissed his hand,
He led her to his harem where he had wives galore.
She started shedding a tear. Said he, “Now have no fear!
I’m keeping these wives here Just for ornament, my dear.”
Em’rald green he robed his queen to share with him his throne.
‘Mid eastern charms and waving palms
They’re shamrocks, Irish grown,
Sent all the way from Dublin, to Nabob J. O’Shea.
But in his palace so fine, should Rose for Ireland pine,
With smiles her face will shine,
When he murmurs, “Sweetheart mine: