Gow's Fareweel to Whiskey/Paddy Abdallah's Legacy
For other versions of this poem, see Paddy Abdallah's Legacy.
PADDY ABDALLAH’S LEGACY.
My father he left me a snug little cot,
Which by one trifling accident I never got;
For dying without his will having been made
Not a legacy in it ever was paid!
Foorallallo, O hone! gramachree, whack.
Which by one trifling accident I never got;
For dying without his will having been made
Not a legacy in it ever was paid!
Foorallallo, O hone! gramachree, whack.
’Twas a neat little cot, built with weather-boa stout,
Which kept every thing else but the weath clean out;
Had a pig-sty for poultry without any door,
It was two stories high, and both on the ground floor.
Foorallalloo, &c.
Which kept every thing else but the weath clean out;
Had a pig-sty for poultry without any door,
It was two stories high, and both on the ground floor.
Foorallalloo, &c.
A beautiful garden with weeds overrun,
And an elegant fish-pond dried up by the sun;
Then the house stood convenient enough, you may say,
Next door to the whiskey-shop over the way.
Foorallalloo, &c.
And an elegant fish-pond dried up by the sun;
Then the house stood convenient enough, you may say,
Next door to the whiskey-shop over the way.
Foorallalloo, &c.
’Twas a freehold estate, heir-at-law was myself,
So to law went about it, of course with an elf,
Gain’d the cause, but to try it so long time requir’d,
The freehold I lost, ’cause the lease had expir’d.
Foorallalloo, &c.
So to law went about it, of course with an elf,
Gain’d the cause, but to try it so long time requir’d,
The freehold I lost, ’cause the lease had expir’d.
Foorallalloo, &c.