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(358) Page 334 - Dagon's fall
334 APPENDIX.
Bid me leave off me cries,
And swear no more plot-lies ;
Then straight away me hies.
hone ! hone !
Deil take this swearing trade !
hone ! hone !
I'll go home to me spade,
hone ! hone !
I'll fence th' potatoes round.
And keep me maishter's ground :
I am too long hell-hound.
hone I hone !
Me book-bussing tribe, adieu !
hone ! hone !
It is now bad wid you ;
hone ! hone !
And if I 'scape the hang,
I've outdone all me gang :
So I leave you here t' swing swang.
hone ! hone !
JDagon's :f all.
Tune. — " Philander."
1683.
Ah ! cruel bloody fate,
What canst thou now do more %
Alas ! 'tis now too late.
Poor Tony to restore !
Why should the flattering fates persuade
That Tony still should live
In England here, or in Holland there.
Yet all our hopes deceive ?
A noble peer he was,
And of notorious fame ;
But now he's gone, alas !
A pilgrim o'er the main :

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