Paddy from Cork

Parody on the burial of Sir John Moore

Peace and health to thee, Tom Moore
Perhaps it's as well as it is

59

171

155

40

Queen Cole

180

Red-cross knight

35

Rest, warrior, rest

78

Rose of Lucerne; or, the Swiss toy-girl

129

The fine old English gentleman

The fine young English gentleman

The first offer of marriage

The forester's bride

The Gipsy child

114

116

156

177

78

A CHOICE COLLECTION

OF

NATIONAL SONGS.

THE BEGGAR.

A BEGGAR I am, and of low degree,
For I'm come of a begging family;
I'm lame, but when in a fighting bout,
I whip off my leg and I fight it out.
In running I leave the beadle behind,
And a lass I can see, tho' alas! I'm blind;
Thro' town and village I gaily jog
My music, the bell of my little dog.
I'm clothed in rags,

I'm hung with bags,
That round me wags;
I've a bag for my salt,

A bag for my malt,

A bag for the leg of a goose:

For my oats a bag,

For my groats a bag,

And a bottle to hold my boose.

It's now Heaven bless you for your charity,
And then push the ean about, fol de rol de ree.,

In begging a farthing I'm poor and old,

In spending a noble I'm stout and bold;
When a brave full company I see,

It's " my noble masters your charity!"-
But when a traveller I meet alone,

"Stand and deliver, or I'll knock you down!" All day for a wandering mumper pass,

All night-oh a barn, a buxom lass.

I'm clothed in rags,