Broadside ballad entitled 'A Comic Song, Patricks Day'

Transcription

A COMIC SONG,                  

Patricks Day.

Printed and Sold by JAMES LINDSAY. Stationer, &c., 9 King
Street, Glasgow.    Shops and Travellers supplied on the most
liberal terms.

From Minister I came and I went into Leinster,
I met with a maid and they called her a spinster,
I sat on a stool in the corner before her,
On Patricks day in the morning.

My jewel says I, I'm a boy that has plenty,
Of bacon and cabbage and each other dainty,
I'm comely and tall, and I'm just rising twenty,
I've bullocks and cows, and things worth your attention,
I've great things and small things, and things I wont mention,
I will treat you my jewel withall condescension,
On Patricks day in the morning.

Arragh heager, says she, I am not in a hurry,
Along with yourself for a while I will tarry,
And what would you think if myself you would marry,
On Patricks day in the morning.

I've 200 guineas, a two year old heifer.
Two pigs and two goats that are comely and clever,
On Sunday I ride in my new coat and beaver,
So now will you have me, but boy you'll remember,
To use me genteel for you know I am tender,
She was three score and ten the 14th of November,
On Patricks day in the morning.

I sung a love song and recited a sonnet,
I flew at her face and laid thousands upon it,
Said she you have ruined my Waterloo bonnet,
On Patricks day in the morning.,

I tell you sincerely, young cherry cheek'd Pat,
I plainly perceive what you mean to he at,
Your a schemer I know by the sloush of your hat,
I'll show a policeman the state of my bonnet,
You've broke my staylaces, I'll charge you upon it,
I'll have you transported to hell or to connaught,
On Patricks day in the morning,

I showed her the ring, and the shop it was got in,
I struck up a match to the priest we went trotting,
We vowed and we swore things that shant be forgotten
On Patricks day in the morning.

But just coming home, as you know 'twas our nature,
We stepped into take a small drop of the creature,
My Jewell she swigged it, bad luck to the neater,
And just on our passage we met with a river.
I forgot my politeness, I jumped it quite clever,
My wife tumbled in, and I lost her for ever,
On Patricks day in the morning.

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