When the Valiant King William cross'd over the Boyn Joy,
And with broken Pates, made Jack Papishes flee;
Of Dragoons a brave Troop made a Gallop to joyn Joy,
And march with the foremost by Chreest did come eey;
They were beaten sore, Curst and Swore, and did roar,
A la Boo, boo, boo, &c.
When I went on a Party, I Sung and was merry too,
Tho' Hunger gives small occasion to Laugh;
I without any Grumbling, fought in London-Derry too,
Without one Dram of Snush or Usquebaugh,
Where fed on Roots, stinking Fruits, old Jack-Boots.
A la Boo, boo, &c.
In a Skirmish near Limerick, on the Bank of the Shannon there
Many stout Teagues were slain in time of Yout;
And at Agrim I narrowly scap'd the damn'd Cannon there,
Catching the Balls by my Shoul in my Mout,
But tho' the Guns spar'd my Bones, Love Gad Zoons,
A la Boo, boo, &c.
The Bully-God Mars, tho' a Bug-bear they make him,
All arm'd like a Gun-smith, with Bullets and Fire,
I defy, but the little Whelp Cupid, plague take him,
Make me snort and grunt like a Hog in the Mire:
She had Irish Size, English Eyes, fat Dutch Thighs.
A la Boo, boo, &c.
Heav'n make me a Cobler, or make me a Broom-man,
Or cry Pudding, what a Plague call ye it i' th' Street;
So I may no more pogue the Hone of a Woman,
Deel tauk me 't has har'd me quite out of my Wits:
For when I get drunk, toap a Funk, in comes Punk,
A la Boo, boo, boo, boo, hone, Oh hone, herry morah.
Page:Songs compleat, pleasant and divertive (Wit and mirth or, Pills to purge melancholy).djvu/222
This page needs to be proofread.
