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Broadside ballad entitled 'The Broth av a Boy'


The Broth av a Boy.

I am one that bears an illigant name,
And who dare say 'tis not;
I was born one day in Limerick town,
In a neat little mud-built cot.                              
My fadher he was the pride av the boys.
And my modher she was the same;
So that is the raison, my honies, d'ye see,
That I bear such an illigant name.

Hoo ! I'm the broth av a boy, deny it who can,
My modher, she's a true born Irishman ;
I'm a broth av a boy, deny it who can,
For my modher, she's a true born Irishman.                  

An Irishman will fight like the devil, you'll own,
And frighten him you never can;
They're the bravest set av boys that ever was known,
Yes, ever since the world began.
For, with whisky in their heads, and shillelahs in their fist,
Like devils or lions they'll fight do you see,
And they'll never say their bate till they're fairly kilt,
And that is the way with me.

Hoo! they can flourish their shillelahs, deny it who am,
A shillelah is the pride of an Irishman ;
They can flourish their shillelahs, deny it who can,
'Tis the murneen av a stick av an Irishman.

The girls av Ould Ireland, they're the girls for me,
In palace, in farm, or in cot;
They are virtuous and loving, they are generous and free,
And who dare say they're not.
Troth" I love thim, the darlints, I'm bound to confess,
And have done so since I was a youth;
And I'll ever adore them, bekays they possess
Fidelity, honour, and truth.

Hoo ! they're the girls that's true-hearted deny it who can
And will never desaive a true Irishman;
They're the girls that's true-hearted, deny it who can,
And will never desaive a true Irishman.

Ould Ireland, ye see, is an illigant place,
And that I'm sure you've heard;
'Tis the purtiest counthry in all the world,
If you take but an Irishman's word.                                 
For there's not a place, east, north, or south,
Where the boys are so brave or free;
I've nothing to say against English or Scotch,
But Ireland is the place for me.

Hoo! 'tis the land av the praties, deny it who can,
That reared many a stout-boned Irishman;
'Tis the laud av the praties, deny ft who can,
It's the home av a true-born Irishman.

Sold by JAMES LINDSAY, Printer and Wholsale Stationer, No
11 King Street, City, Glasgow.    Upwards of 5,000 sort always
on hand;   also a great variety of Picture-Books, Song-Books,
Histories, &c,   Shops and Hawkers supplied on Liberal Terms

Soiree and Ball Cards, Large Posting and Hand Bills, Invoice
Tops, Circulars, Business and Fancy Cards, Society Articles,
pamphlets, and every description of Letterpress Printing, done
cheaply, neatly, and quickly. Lithographing, &c.


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Probable period of publication: 1860-1880   shelfmark: L.C.Fol.178.A.2(070)
Broadside ballad entitled 'The Broth av a Boy'
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