Page:Battle of Waterloo (6).pdf/6

 The Sportsman be took a light peep at my dreſs,

And then he begin for to prat, ſir,

Saying, how does the Cropies in Ireland now do,

And whether the number’s got many or few?

The d--v--l a Cropie nor, Ireland I knew,

I am a Scotchman, ſaid Lawrie O’Broom,

O he ſaid i was a Cropie by the cut of my hair,

Which left me in tears for to wander;

I inſtantly toft up his heels in the air,

And laid him as flat as a flounder.

Whilſt he like a paddock did ſprawl on the ground,

I ran like a hare in front of a hound,

While the hills and the vallies did echo around,

With the people crying Lawrie O’Broom, Sir.  

OME, all you lads and laſſes,

come liſten here awhile,

A merry ſong I’ll ſing to you,

will cauſe your hearts to ſmile;

My ſong it is not very long,

ſung with a merry glee, O,

And you may ſing it to your love,

while ſhe ſits on your knee, O.

Tarry dilly O, tanry dilly O, right tol

the rol, tol the rol te tarry dilly O.

’Tis of a merry plough boy,

was plowing of his land,

He cried Ho! unto his horſes,

and boldly bade them ſtand;