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 minstrels all be on our call,

when you see his horses coming;

s music spring spare not your string,

when your hear his bridles ringing.

call'd on Mag her chamber maid,

and Jeanny her gentle comas,

bring me a bottle of the good Spanish wine,

for to drink his health that's coming.

gently tripped down the stair,

and away to the gate to meet him:

are welcome, you lord of the Boyne,

you are welcome home from London.

this be so, come let me know,

come kiss me for my coming;

tomorrow should have been my wedding day,

If I had staid in London.

gave the glass out of her hand,

She was a woeful woman,

morrow should be your wedding day,

go back to your whores in London.

looked o'er his right shoulder,

his comely court behind him,

is is a merry welcome, he says,

that we have got from London.