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His revels to keep,

5 We sup and we dine On seven score sheep,

Fat bullocks and swine. Uiquebaugh to our fcast In pails was brought up,

IO An hundred at least, And a madder *

our cup. O there is the sport!

We rise with the light In disorderly fort,

15 From snoring all night. O how was I trick'd!.

My pipe it was broke,
My pocket was pick'd,
I lost my new cloak.

20 I'm rifl'd, quoth Nell,

Of mantle and kerchert: Why then fare them well,

The de'il.take the searcher. Come, harper, strike up ;

25 But, firit, by your favour, Boy, give us a cup :

Ah! this has fome favour. © Rourk's jolly boys

Ne'er dream’d. of the matter,
Till rous'd by the noise

And musical clatter,
They bounce from their neft,

No longer will tarry,
They rise ready drest,

35 Without one Ave Mary. They dance in a round,

Cutting capers and ramping; A mercy the ground

Did not burst with their stamping. 40


* A wooden veffel.
1 An handkerchief.





The floor is all wet

With leaps and with jumps, While the water and sweat

Splish fplash in their pumps.
Bless you late and early,

Laughlin O Enagin,
By my hand *, you dance rarely,

Margery Grinagin t.
Bring straw for our bed,

Shake it down to the feet, Then over us fpread

The winnowing sheet : To thow I don't flinch,

Fill the bowl up again ; Then give us a pinch

Of your sneezing, a yean, Good Lord, what a fight,

After all their good cheer, For people to fight

In the midst of their beer! They rise from their feast,

And hot are their brains, A cubit at least

The length of their skeans. What ftabs and what cuts,

What clatt'ring of sticks ; What strokes on the guts,

What bastings and kicks! With cudgels of oak

Well harden'd in flame An hundred heads broke,

An hundred struck lame. You churl, I'll maintain

My father built Luik,




# An Irish cath.
+ The name of an Irish woman,
i An Irish word for a woman,

Daggers, or Mort swords.




The castle of lain,

And Carrick Drumruik :
The Earl of Kildare,

· And Moynalta, his brother,

great as they are,

I was nurs’d by their mother *.
Ask that of old Madam,
She'll tell


who's who,
As far up as Adam,

She knows it is true.
Come down with that beam,

If cudgels are scarce,
A blow on the weam,

Or a kick on the afe


A French Gentleman dining with some com

pany on a fast day, called for some bacon and eggs. The rest were very angry, and reproved him for so hainous a fin: whereupon he wrote the following lines extempore, which are here tranílated.

Eut on croire avec bon sens

Qu'n lardon le mit en colere,
Ou, que manger un harang,

C'est un secret pour lui-plaire ? En fa gloire envelope,

Songe t'il bien de nos roupé?


* It is the custom in Ireland, to call nurses filter mothers, their husband foster fathers, and their children foster brothers or fofterfifters; and thus the poorest claim kindred to the richest.

HO can believe with common sense,

A bacon flice gives God offence,
Or how a herring hath a charm
Almighty vengeance to disarm?
Wrapt up in majesty divine,
Does he regard on what we dine?


An excellent new Song on a feditious

pamphlet *.

To the tune of Packington's Pond.

Written in the year 1720.

BRocades, and damafks, and tabbies, and gawses,

Are by Robert Ballentine lately brought over, With forty things more: now hear what the law

says, Whoe'er will not wear them, is not the King's

Though a printer and dean

Seditiously mean
Our true Irish hearts from old England to wean;
We'll buy English filks for our wives and our

daughters, In spite of his Deanship and journeyman Waters.

* Dr. S xifr having wrote a treatise advising the people of Irelard to wear their own manufactures, a profecution was set on foot against Wateis the printer thereof; which was carried on with so inuchsioe lence, that the then 'Lord Chief Juřice, one Whitihed, thuht proper, in a manner the most axtraordinary, to kepthe grand juiy above twelve hours, and to send them eleven times cut of curig until hetad wcaricd them into a speci.. veruili,



In England the dead in woollen are clad,

The Dean and his printer then let us cry fie on; To be cloth'd like a carcase would make a Teague

Since a living dog better is than a dead lion.

Our wives they grow fullen
At wearing of woollen,

15 And all we poor shopkeepers must our horns pull

in, Then we'll buy English filks for our wives and

our daughters, In spite of his Deanship and journeyman Waters.

III. Whoe'er our trading with England would hinder,

To inflame both the nations do plainly conspire; Because Irish linen will soon turn to tinder; And wool it is greafy, and quickly takes fire.

Therefore I assure ye,

Our noble grand jury, When they saw the Dean's book, they were in a

25 They would buy English filks for their wives and

their daughters, In spite of his Deanship and journeyman Waters.

IV. This wicked rogue Waters, who always is finning,

And before Coram nobis fo oft hath been callid, Henceforward shall print neither pamphlets nor linen,

30 And, if firearing can do't, shall be swingingly

maul'd :

And as for the Dean,

You know whom I mean, If the printer will peach him, he'll scarce come

off clean, Then we'll buy English filks for our wives and our daughters,

35 In spite of his Deanship and journeyman Waters.


great fury:

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