2
PADDY CAREY.
'TWAS at the town of nate Clogheen,
That Sergeant Snapp met Paddy Carey;
A claner boy was never seen,
Brisk as a bee, and light as a fairy.
His brawny shoulders four feet square,
His cheeks like thumping red potatoes;
His legs would make a chairman stare!
And Pat was lov'd by all the ladies!
Old and young, grave or sad,
Deaf and dumb, dull or mad,
Waddling, twaddling, limping, squinting,
Light, brisk and airy—
All the sweet faces at Limerick races,
From Mullinovat to Maghera felt,
At Paddy's beautiful name would melt,
The sowls would cry, and look so shy,
Och, cushlamachree, did you ever see
The jolly boy, the darling boy, the ladies' toy,
Nimble-footed, black-eyed, rosy cheek'd, curly-
headed Paddy Carey!
O, sweet Paddy, beautiful Paddy!
Nate little, tight little Paddy Carey!
His heart was made of Irish oak,
Yet soft as streams from sweet Killarney,
His tongue was tipt with a bit of the brogue,
But the deuce a bit at all of the blarney,
Now Sergeant Snapp so sly and keen,
While Pat was courting duck-legg'd Mary,
