Belfast maid's lamentation for the loss of her sweetheart/Pady O Blarney

PADDY O BLARNEY.

WRITTEN AND SUNG BY MR DIBDIN.

IS'T my country you'd know, I'm an Iriſhman born,
And they chriſten'd me Paddy O Blarney,
In hay-making time I ſtept over one morn,
All the way from the Lakes of Kilkarney:
Turn'd my hand to whatever came in my way,
To be ſure while the ſun ſhin'd I didn't make hay.

SPOKEN

Well then, you know the wives and daughters
of the farmers won't, well they won't,
Have plenty of cauſe to remember the day,
When firſt they ſaw Paddy O Blarney.

Then what does I do, the next calling I ſeeks,
Ah! the world for the Lakes of Kilkarney,
I cry mack'rel alive, that were caught for three weeks,
Ah! let alone Paddy O Blarney:
Then freſh gather'd ſtrawberries ſo found & ſo ſweet,
With juſt half a dozen a top fit to eat.

SPOKEN.

Ah, madam, you need not examine them; bleſs
your two good looking eyes; they are full to
the bottom, paper and all — "Well, I'll
truſt to you, I dare fay you won't cheat me,"
So I coaxes her up, and her calf makes her cheat,
Ah! ſait, let alone Paddy Blarney.

Next I turn'd to a chairman and got a good job,
Ah! the world for the Lakes of Kilkarney;
I harangued at a famous election the mob,
Ah ! let alone Paddy O Blarney;
The to ſee how his honour and I did cajole,
He knock'd down his fats with words, and I mine
with my pole.

SPOKEN.

Then you know when they came to chair him,
I was no longer, you ſee, an odd man, there
was a pair of chairmen.
And ſure ſuch a pair was ne'er ſeen by my foul,
As his honour and Paddy O Blarney.

But this notion of greatneſs was none of the worſt,
Oh! the world for the Lakes of Kilkarney,
Having play'd ad fiddle, I thought I'd play iſ't,
Can't ye let alone Paddy O Blarney;
So ſwearing to plunder and never to ſpeak,
I my qualifications took out and turn'd Greek.

SPOKEN.

Ah! to be ſure we did not make a pretty dove-
houſe of our Pharoah Bank; let me ſee, me
pidgeoned, ay fait, and plucked them completely too.
Four tradesmen & fix bankers' clerks in one week,
Will you let alone Paddy O Blarney.

A big man in all circles ſo gay and polite,
Ah ! the world for the Lakes of Kilkarney:
I found one larnt grown up Jolman to write,
Juſt to finiſh gay Paddy O Blarney;
I firſt learnt my name, till ſo fond of it grown,
I don't ſay I'd better have let it alone

SPOKEN.

But by my ſoul and conſcience, it had like to
have finiſhed me in good earneſt; for you ſee
I—juſt—wrote
Another Joleman's ſignature ſtead of my own,
What a devil of a Pady o Blarney.

But ſince fate didn't chuſe for to nooſe me that day,
Ah the world for the Lakes O Kilkarney,
With a Venus of ninety I next ran away,
What a fine daſhing Paddy O Blarney;
So marriage turn'd out the beſt nooſe of the two,
The old ſoul's gone to hear'n, I'm as rich as a Jew.

SPEAKING

So that if any Jolyman has an occaſion for a
Friend, or a Lady for a Lover, or, in ſhort,
if any body ſhould want to be diſencumber'd
of the unneaſineſs of a wife or a daughter, of
a purſe of any ſuch kind and civil ſervice,
that can be perform'd by a gentleman at large
that has nothing to do;
Let me recommend Paddy O Blarney.