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Poem

In Dublin town I was brought up, in that city of great fame
My decent friends and parents, they will tell to you the same.
It was for the sake of five hundred pounds I was sent across the main,
For seven long years, in New South Wales, to wear a convict’s chain
Then come, my hearties, we’ll roam the mountains high!
Together we will plunder, together we will die!
We’ll wander over mountains and we’ll gallop over plains
For we scorn to live in slavery, bound down in iron chains.
I’d scarce been there twelve months or more upon the Australian shore,
When I took to the highway, as I’d oft-times done before.
There was me and Jacky Underwood, and Webber and Webster, too.
These were the true associates of bold Jack Donahoo.

Now, Donahoo was taken, all for a notorious crime,
And sentenced to be hanged upon the gallows-tree so high.
But when they came to Sydney gaol, he left them in a stew,
And when they came to call the roll, they missed bold Donahoo.

As Donahoo made his escape, to the bush he went straight- way.
The people they were all afraid to travel night or day
For every week in the newspapers there was published some-thing new
Concerning this dauntless hero, the bold Jack Donahoo!

As Donahoo was cruising, one summer’s afternoon,
little was his notion his death was near so soon,
When a sergeant of the horse police discharged his car-a-bine,
And called aloud on Donahoo to fight or to resign.

"Resign to you—you cowardly dogs! a thing I ne’er will do,
For I’ll fight this night with all my might," cried bold Jack Donahoo.
"I’d rather roam these hills and dales, like wolf or kangaroo,
Than work one hour for Government!" cried bold Jack Donahoo.

He fought six rounds with the horse police until the fatal ball,
Which pierced his heart and made him start, caused Donahoo to fall.
And as he closed his mournful eyes, he bade this world Adieu,
Saying, "Convicts all, both large and small, say prayers for Donahoo!"

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