r 37 I 



AN OLD SON G. 



"WHAT ails you fo melancholy, quoth John, fo crofs, 

 You feem all fnappifh, uneafy and fretful : 

 Lie with us on the clover, 'tis fair and Iheltered ; 

 Come nearer, you're rubbing your back, why fo ill tempered. 



Well, goflip, it fliall be told, you afk what ails me, and for what ; 

 You have put us in talk, 'till the fun goes to fet, 

 I'm a fool and a dunce ; we'll idle out the day ; 

 The more we fpend here, the lefs in the church-yard. 



Yefterday we had a goal jufl in our hand, 

 Their gentry were quaking, themfelves could not ftand. 

 If good for little had been buried, it had been my Tommy, 

 Who by mifluck, was placed to drive in. 



Throngs and crouds from each quarter of the Lough \of Balljr 

 macujhin near the commons -^ 

 Such vapoiiring and glittering, when flript in their fhirts. 

 Such bawling and fliouting, when the ball was thrown ; 

 I faw their intent was to give us neer a ftroke. 



But with all their bravado they were foon taiight 

 That their errand was aiming to bring anguifh \ipon 'em.- 

 Such driving and flruggling 'till then we ne'er faw, 

 Nor fuch never will, no, nor never may. 



Many 



