Page:Four songs (16).pdf/7

 There’s nothing here that's venomous,
 * But all of pure innocence,

The air is clear and wholesome,
 * And girls full of merriment.

For wit and good behaviour,
 * Few nations can with it withstand,

They are the flower pf Europe,
 * The pretty girls of Paddy's land.

The people now of Ireland,
 * They are all of an open mind ;

And likewise to the strangers,
 * They also are very kind ;

They never will degrade them,
 * But soon will lend them help in hand.

And who can contradict them,
 * That ever was in Paddy's land.

Oh ! come now my brave boys,
 * Since free trading we have got,

We disregard the Spaniards,
 * French, or haughty Dutch ;

And if they do oppose us,
 * We surely will them countermand,

And we'll make them smell the oak, my boys,
 * A plant that grows in Paddy's land.

It's come now my brave boys,
 * Push about the funny quart,