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Soldiers & sailors

Paddy's ramble

                  PADDY'S
                  RAMBLE.

   J. Kendrew, Printer, Collier-Gate York.

ABOUT nine years ago, I was digging of land,
With my broags ore my feet, and my ſpade in
my hand,
Then I thought to myſelf. 'tis a pity to ſee,
Such a cleaver young lad digging turf on the lee,
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho &c.

Then I threw off my broags ſhook hands with my
ſpade,
And I went to the fair like a daſhing young blade,
Where I met with a ſerjeant he aſk d me to liſt,
Saying great grammaghree give us hold of your fiſt,
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho, &c.

Then he gave me five guineas, he ſaid he'd no more,
If Ed go to his quarters, he'd chalke up a ſcore,
He talk'd about quarters but no quarters for I,
So I put on my hat, and ſaid Serjeant good bye,
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho, &c.

Then early next morning to drill I was ſent,
And it was there by my ſoul I began to repent,
There was marching and drilling, juſt as they pleas'd,
There was right and left wheel, and then ſtand at eaſe
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho, &c

I have been in many battles, and have had good luck,
Both at Vinegar hill and Ballinaghmuck.
Where the ſmoke was ſo thick, and the fire ſo hot,
By my ſoul I dare not fire, leaſt I ſhould be ſhot
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho, &c.

It was nine years ago, thank heaven it's not ten,
But now I m at home, digging murphys again,
Succeſs to old reland, and God ſave the KING,
When the wars are all over I'll turn ſoldier again.
                                          Sing tuddy heigh ho, &c.

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