Ireland

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       A NEW SONG ON THE

      LIMERICK RAKE

I am a young fellow that's airy & bold,
In Castletown Connor I'm very well known,
In Newcastle West I speht many a note,
With Kitty, Biddy, and Mary,
My father rebuked me for being such a rake,
And spending my time in such frolicksome waist
But I ne'er can forget the god nature of Jane,
And she lives quite convenient to Tarbert,

My parents they thought me to shake & to sow,
To reap & to harrow, ho plough & to mow,
But my heart being to airy to droop it so low,
I sst out for a higher speculation
On paper & parchment they thought me to write,
In cnel'd & grammer they opened my sight,
In multiplication in thraught I was bright,
And I will sottle accounts without faulter

When ever I got to the patren of Croom,
With a cock in my hat & pipe in full bloom,
I am welcome, d at once & handed up to a room,
Where bacheus is sporting with venus,
There is Peggy & Jane from the town of bruree,
And Biddy from Bruff & they all on a spree
Such combing of locks as the bad about me
And they all wearing caps without borders

Wken ever I go to the town of Rathkeal,
The girls around me do flock in the square,
Some gives me a bottle & others sweets cakes,
For to trait me unknown to their parents
There is one from A skeaton & one from the Pike
Another from Ardah my heart has beguield,
Altho being from the mountains her stockings are whitd
And I'd like to be squeezing her garters

So now for the future I mean to be wise,
I'll send for those women that acted so kind
And I'll marry them all to morrow bye the bye,
If the Clergy agree to the bargain,
I till a good garden & live at my case,
Each woman & child will partake of the name
If there's war in the cabin themselves they may blams
And I'd pity them wearing long horns,

To quarel for riches I ne'er was inclined,
The greatest of misers must leve them behind,
I'll purchase a cow that will never run dry,
And milk her by twisting her horns,
John Pemer of Scrionelle had plenty of gold,
And Devenshire's treasures was twenty times more
Now they're laid on their flats amongst nettles & stones
And the breath of their back for a farm,

This cow can be fed without clover or grass
She is pampered with corn good barley and hops,
She is firm and sound and free in the paps,
And she milks without spancel or halter,
The man that will drink it will cock his cobeen,
And if they be caught there will be wigs on the green
The feeble old hag will get suple and free
By tipling her fluid in the morning,

P. Breroton, Printer, 1, Lr, Elxchange, St, Dublin