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Round about the big poſt that grows out of the ſhip: Och! I never thought more to ſing Langolee. (Sir,

Thus ſtanding ſtock ſtill all the while I was moving, Till Ireland's ſweet coaft I ſaw clean out of ſight, Myſelf, the next day true Iriſhman proving, When leaving the ſhip, on the forefer to light; As the board they put out was too Darrow to quarter: The firſt ſtep I took I was in ſuch a totter That I jump'd upon land, to my neck up in water, Faith, that was no time to ſing Langolee.

But ſure cold and hunger I never yet knew more, For my ftomach and bowel did grumble and So I thonght the bell way to get cach in good humour, Was to take out the wrinkles of both by my ſhoul. Then I went to a houſe where roat meat they provide Sir, With a whirligig, which up the chimney I ſpy'd, Sir Which grinds all their fnoke into powder, beſide, Sir 'Tis true as I'm now ſinging Langolee

Next I wrect to the landlord of all the ſtage coacher, That ſet ſail for London each night in the week, To whom I obnoxiouſly made my approaches, As a birth aboard one I was come for to ſeek. But as for the is ſide I'd no caſh in my casket, So ſays I 'With your leave, may I make bold to a When the corch is gone off, pray what time gore the For there I can ride and ſing Langelee. [baſket

Then ſcrewing hit mouth up, the baſket ſays he, Sir Goes after the couch a full hour or two: Very well Sir, ſays I that's the thing juſt for me Sir