The subjoined poem under the above heading has been supplied to us by a West Limerick lady who says “the great number of bachelors in this county and country prompted the writing of the verses.

Coming home from the fair of Rathkeale i was,

A bachelor after a spree

I took the short cut right over the hill

By way of Lough-an-Ree

A glorious night it was to be sure,

Clear and calm as could be,

Not a ripple disturbed the little lake,

That is known a Lough-an-Ree

I stood in terror, my hair on end

I could neither turn nor flee,

From out the lake rose an ancient king,

And his mighty host of the Sidhe

He saw me there and yelled aloud

“There’s one of the gang” cried he

“Seize him at once, for he’s to be drowned

To-night in Lough-an-Ree”

“Good king” I said, “I’ve done no wrong”

“An old bachelor you be

That’s wrong, enough, you must be removed

You’re no use to your country or me”

Then he ordered his host “Go round them up,

Of every creed and degree,

Spare not one man of that use-less clan

From the waters of Lough-an-Ree,

You never heard such a melee,

It was caused that night by us bachelor boys,

By the lake of Lough-an-Ree

Some fought and struggled some cried and swore

The old king looked on in glee

“Give us this chance” we appealed to him,

“We’ll marry but set us free”

“I’ll give ye one chance” the old king said

But pay heed to our royal decree

Seek a wife and marry within one year

Or be thrown into Lough-an-Ree

He poised to vanish beneath the lake,

As we knelt down on our knee

And made a promise to change our state

To the king of Lough-an-Ree

Now, all ye old bachelors everywhere

Get married and safe you’ll be

From the cruel fate of a watery grave

In the lake of Lough-an-Ree

Anne T.  Bachelor