Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/222

 When the Valiant King William cross'd over the Boyn Joy, And with broken Pates, made Jack Papishes flee; Of Dragoons a brave Troop made a Gallop to joyn Joy, And march with the foremost by Chreest did come eey; They were beaten sore, Curst and Swore, and did roar, A la Boo, boo, boo, &c.

When I went on a Party, I Sung and was merry too, Tho' Hunger gives small occasion to Laugh; I without any Grumbling, fought in London-Derry too, Without one Dram of Snush or Usquebaugh, Where fed on Roots, stinking Fruits, old Jack-Boots. A la Boo, boo, &c.

In a Skirmish near Limerick, on the Bank of the Shannon there Many stout Teagues were slain in time of Yout; And at Agrim I narrowly scap'd the damn'd Cannon there, Catching the Balls by my Shoul in my Mout, But tho' the Guns spar'd my Bones, Love Gad Zoons, A la Boo, boo, &c.

The Bully-God Mars, tho' a Bug-bear they make him, All arm'd like a Gun-smith, with Bullets and Fire, I defy, but the little Whelp Cupid, plague take him, Make me snort and grunt like a Hog in the Mire: She had Irish Size, English Eyes, fat Dutch Thighs. A la Boo, boo, &c.

Heav'n make me a Cobler, or make me a Broom-man, Or cry Pudding, what a Plague call ye it i' th' Street; So I may no more pogue the Hone of a Woman, Deel tauk me 't has har'd me quite out of my Wits: For when I get drunk, toap a Funk, in comes Punk, A la Boo, boo, boo, boo, hone, Oh hone, herry morah.