Ufquebaugh to our feast
In pails was brought up,
An hundred at least,
And a* madder our cup.
O there is the fport!
We rife with the light
In diforderly fort

From fnoaring all night,
O how was I trick'd!
My pipe it was broke,
My pocket was pick'd,
I loft my new cloak.
I'm rifled, quoth Nell,
Of mantle and § kercher :
Why then fare them well,
The de'el take the fearcher.
Come, harper, ftrike up;
But, firft, by your favour,
Boy, give us a cup:
Ah! this has fome favour.
O Rourk's jolly boys

Ne'er dreamt of the matter,

Till, rous'd by the noise

And mufical clatter,

Wooden veffel. § Handkerchief.

D 3

They

They bounce from their neft,
No longer will tarry,

They rife ready dreft,

Without one ave mary.
They dance in around,
Cutting capers and ramping;
A mercy the ground

Did not burft with their ftamping,
The floor is all wet

With leaps and with jumps,
While the water and fweat
Splish splash in their pumps,
Blefs you late and early,
Laughlin O Enagin,

*

By my hand, you dance rarely,
Margery Grinagin.

Bring ftraw for our bed,
Shake it down to the feet,
Then over us fpread,
The winnowing fheet:
To fhew I don't flinch,
Fill the bowl up again;
Then give us a pinch
Of your fneezing, ‡ a yean.

*An Irish oath.

+ The name of an Irish woman.

† An high word for a woman.

Good

Good lord, what a fight,
After all their good cheer,
For people to fight

In the midst of their beer!
They rise from their feast,
And hot are their brains,
A cubit at least

The length of their * fkeans.
What ftabs and what cuts,
What clatt'ring of sticks;
What ftrokes on the guts,
What bastings and kicks!
With cudgels of oak
Well harden'd in flame
An hundred heads broke,
An hundred ftruck lame.
You churl, I'll maintain
My father built Lusk,
The caftle of Slain,
And Carrick Drumrusk:
The earl of Kildare

And Moynalta, his brother,
As great as they are,

I was nurft by their mother †.

Daggers or fhort fwords. and their children fofter-broIt is the cuftom in Ireland thers or fofter-fifters; and thus to call nurses fofter-mothers; the pooreft claim kindred their husbands fofter-fathers; with the richeft.

D 4

Afk

Ask that of old madam,

She'll tell you who's who
As far up as Adam,

She knows it is 'true.
Come down with that beam,
If cudgels are fcarce,

A blow on the weam,
Or a kick on the a--fe.

A French gentleman dining with fome company on a faft-day, called for fome bacon and eggs. The reft were very angry, and reproved him for fo heinous a fin: whereupon he wrote the following lines extempore, which are here tranflated.

PEUT on croire avec bon fens

Qu'un lardon le mit en colere,

Ou, que manger un harang,
C'est un fecret pour luy plaire?
En fa gloire envelopé,
Songe-t-il bien de nos foupés?

W

In ENGLISH.

'HO can believe with common fenfe, A bacon-flice gives God offence,

Or,

་

Or, how a herring hath a charm
Almighty vengeance to disarm?
Wrapt up in majesty divine,
Does he regard on what we dine?

An excellent new SONG on a feditious pamphlet.*

To the Tune of Packington's Pound.

Written in the Year 1720.

BROCADOS and damasks, and tab

bies, and gawfes,

Are by Robert Ballentine lately brought

over,

With forty things more: now hear what the law fays,

Whoe'er will not wear them, is not the king's lover.

Tho' a printer and dean

Seditiously mean

Our true Irish hearts from old England to

wean;

Propofal for the univerfal use of Irish manufactures, for which Waters the printer was profecuted. See vol. X.

We'll