Page:Excellent old song, called, The battle of the Boyn, or, King William crossing the Boyn water.pdf/6

 6 Deaf and dumb dull or mad, Waddling, twaddling, limping squinting Light, brisk, and airy,— All the sweet faces, at Limerick races, From Mullinavat, to Maghera-felt, At Paddy’s beautiful name would melt! The sowls would cry, and look so shy, Och! Cushlamachree, did you never see The jolly boy, the darling joy, the ladies’ toy. Nimble-footed, black ey’d, rosy-cheek’d, Curly-headed, Paddy Carey! O, sweet Paddy, beautiful Paddy ! Nate little, tight little, Paddy Carey.

His heart was made of Irish oak, Yet soft as streams from sweet Killarney His rongus was tipt with a bit o’ the brogue But a deuce at all a bit of the blarney. Now sergeant snap so sly and keen, While Pat was coaxing duck-legg’d Mary, A shilling slipt, so rate and clone, By th’ powers! he listed Paddy Carey! Tight and sound—strong light— Cheeks so round—eyes so bright,— Whistling, humming, drinking, drumming,