Зображення сторінки
PDF
[ocr errors]

MY OWN NATIVE ISLE. THERE's an isle, clasp'd by waves, in an emerald zone,

That peers forth from ocean so pearl-like and fair, As if nature meant it the water-king's throne;

A youth, whom I name not, remembers me there. The breeze now in murmurs, a plaint brings from far, From my own native isle, and my lover's guitar. Oh! cheer thee, fond mourner, let hope's whisper soften

The wild pang of absence and doubts too unkind; The maid thou upbraidest, for thee sighs as often,

And speeds gentle wishes by every wind. Then winds blow ye homeward, waves waft me afar, To my own native isle, and my lover's guitar.

gaminam PADDY O'LEARY AND MISS JUDY MÄSNIFTER. ADOWN a dark alley I courted a maid, Miss Judy M’Snifter, who wash'd for a trade,

Och Cupid led me a figary; Her toes they turned in, and her back it grew out, And her eyes look'd so melting across her snout, They bother'd poor Paddy O'Leary, Mr. Leary, Paddy Leary, Och fiililililoo, fol de rol

de rol. Miss Judy M'Snifter was bandy, 'tis true, Her mouth very wide, and her nose rather blue,

She put me in such a quandary; Says she, ' I could love you the whole of my life, But they say that in Ireland you've left your old wife, Don't believe it,' said Paddy O'Leary.

Mr. Leary, &c.
So a bargain we made soon at church to say grace,
Which I seald with a kiss on her sweet yellow face,

But I soon did repent my figary;
When we had been married a year and a day,
With a dirty coal-heaver my wife ran away,
• Devil speed you,' said Paddy O'Leary.

Mr. Leary, &c.
Crim. Con. we all know, is the rage in this town,
So for damages I thought to make him come down:

But the law it was devlish contrary; For all that they gave-when much blarney 'd been

said, For planting a pair of big horns on my head, Was five shillings to Paddy O'Leary.

Mr. Leary, &c.

THE HUMOURS OF AN IRISH FAIR.
It's the drop of good whiskey

That makes my heart friskey,
Arrah! down goes the cratur, with a tear in my eye,

Shellelagh we'll battle,

On foes heads we'll rattle,
Ding dong at each nodale-for mercy they cry;

Now down they are falling,

On hands and knees crawling,
My Judy cries · Bravo! good luck to you Pat!

Och! faith you're the dandy,

You nick'd 'em so handy,
You tipp'd Jerry Casey, and down he went flat.'

Spoken.] Yes, by my soul, down he went, sure enough, and when he was down I gave him the devil's own to bring him up again, saying,

Horo buglamy, ditheramy corragi,

Horo buglamy, row de row row.
Now the foe is all scatterd,

With heads and limbs batter'd,
Whack goes shellelagh, with joyful huzza; .

My rival, big Jerry,

In a devil of a hurry,
Frowns on my Judy and then runs away;

Och! the joy that this gave me,

Faith, never will leave me, I kiss'd my sweet cratur, and squeez'd her soft fist;,

I'll be my own speaker,

And my own I will make her, And be true to my Judy, as the sun to the east

Spoken.] Aye, by the powers! and if any one insults my darling, I'll take my blackthorn in my fist, Judy shall put a stone in her stocking, and we'll go thro' the fair singing,

i Horo buglamy, &c.
Next homeward retiring,

Each sweetheart admiring,
And binding the wounds of each favorite gwain;

Recounting the actions

Between the two factions,
And swearing to fight if we meet them again:

Next morning, what pity,

With mournful ditty,
I weep over Jerry, for breaking his sconce;

We embrace one another

Like brother and brother,
The piper's play up and we join in the dance-

Spoken.] Yes, and we're always better friends after beating one another, than ever we were before; and, whilst the piper plays, we drown animosity in the real stuff, and sing,

| Horo buglamy, &c.

SHANNON’S FLOWERY BANKS. In summer when the leaves were green, and blossoms

deck'd each tree, Young Teddy then declar'd his love, his artless love

to me; On Shannon's flow'ry banks we sat, and there he told

his tale, 0, Patty, softest of thy sex! 0, let fond !ove prevail! Ah, well-a-day, you see me pine in sorrow and despair, Yet heed me not, then let me die, and end my grief

and care. Ah, no dear youth, I softly said, such love demands my

thanks, And here I vow eternal truth-on Shannon's flow'ry

.banks. And here we vow'd eternal truth on Shannon's flow'ry

banks, And then we gather'd sweetest flow'rs, and play'd such

artless pranks; But, woe is me! the press-gang came, and forc'd my

Ted away Just when we nam'd next morning fair to be our wed

ding-day. • My love, he cried, they force me hence, but still

my heart is thine; * All peace be yours, my gentle Pat, while war and toil

be mine: With riches, l'll return to thee.' I sobb’d out words

of thanks And then he vow'd eternal truth on Shannon's flow'ry

banks.

And then we vow'd eternal truth on Shannon's dow'ry

banks, And then I saw him sail away and join the hostile

ranks; From morn to eve for twelve dull months, his absence

sad I mourn'd, The peace was made--the ship came back—but Teddy

ne'er return'd! His beauteous face, his manly form, has won a nobler

fairMy Teddy's false, and I, forlorn, must die in sad deYe gentle maidens, see me laid, while you stand round

in ranks, And plant a willow o'er my head on Shannon's flow'ry

banks.

spair,

un

LARRY CARNEY.
WHEN a man that's in service is out of employ,

He's confin’d to be roving all day;
What he wants he may whistle for: I wish him joy

Of the meals that wo’nt come in his waya

Spoken.] 0, for a nice pitchfork eel and a cold slice of melted butter to it; or a turban and lobster sauce; or the lovely beefsteak lining that makes the under crust of pigeon pye! O, don't mention it! There's a time for all things,' they say, but I know no more about dinner-time than a cat does of churning salt-butter. • No Song no Supper,' is another old saw, but though I sing all day, sorrow the taste of supper I get morning, noon or night. Which makes me now lament and say,

(Imitation of the original singer.) . May we ne'er want a friend, or a bottle to give him.'

« НазадПродовжити »