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5 Tis long ago now fmce I left Tipperary How ftrange, growing older, our nature mould vary ! All fymptoms are gone of ancient quandary I cannot tell what I ail.
Dear, dear ! what can the matter be ? Och, blood an ouns ! what can the matter be ? Och, Gramachree ! what can the matter be ? I'm bother'd from head to the tail.
��A SAILING WE WILL GO.
OME, buftle, buttle, drink about,
And let us merry be, Our cann is full, we'll pump it out, And then all hands to fea.
And a failing we will go*
Fine Mifs at dancing fchool is taught
The minuet to tread, But we go better when weVe brought
The fore-tack to cat-head.
And a failing. &c.
The jockey 's call'd to horfe, to horfe,
And fwi-tly rides the race, But fyifter far we fhape our courfe
When we are giving chace.
4 And a failing, &c.
When horns and fliouts the forefts rend,
His pack the huntfman cheers ; As loud we, hollow, when we fend A broadfide to Monfieurs.
And a failing, &c.
The
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