Mary Celestia Parler
December 22, 1954
Reel 205, Item 4
("an Irish prize-fighter's song")
Come all you bold Irish and listen to me,
I'll sing you the praises of John Morrissey,
Who's lately been challenged for five thousand pound,
By Ned the black man from Mulberry Town.
'Twas the fourteenth of April, this row was to hold,
When thousands assembled with silver and gold;
Twenty-to-one was the cry on black Ned,
That Morrissey the Irishman would be killed dead.
'Bout six in the morning, this row it begin,
When stripped to the buff and jumped into the ring,
"Lay down your belt, Black Ned," he did say,
"For your life I shall have in the ring of this day."
John Morrissey jumped into the ring like a bear,
Saying, "Here stands the form of an Irishman here,
Who had never been conquered by white, black, nor brown,
While known by the Irishmen here all around."
They fought from the first round right up to the tenth,
When Morrissey received several blows on the belt,
From the tenth right up to the twentieth round,
Bled from his eyes, ears, and nose, as he lay on the ground.
He received some refreshments from his second, O'Brian,
And again he jumped into the ring like a lion,
From the twentieth up to the twenty-fifth round,
Every blow that was struck, the poor black fell to the ground.
The twenty-fifth round it was fought in great style,
And Morrissey turned to the Irish and smiled.
Then he turned to Black Ned with one powerful stroke,
And laid him for dead with five ribs of his broke.
Reel 205, Item 4, con
'Tis now the row's over, 'twas Morrissey's gain,
He whipped the black bruiser from over the main,
And never such cheering has ever been seen,
As it was on that day in old Erin so green.
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