BALLAD. (My name's Ted Blarney, I'll be bound)

My name's Ted Blarney, I'll be bound And man and boy upon this ground, Full twenty years I've beat my round, Crying Vauxhall watch:

And as that time's a little short, With some small folks that here resort, To be sure I have not had some sport, Crying Vauxhall watch.

Oh of pretty wenches dress'd so tight, And macaronies what a sight, Of a moonlight morn I've bid good night, Crying Vauxhall watch.

The lover cries no soul will see, You are deceiv'd my love, cries she, Dare's dat Irish tafe there—meaning me— Crying Vauxhall watch.

So they goes on with their amorous talk, Till they gently steals to the dark walk, While I steps aside, no sport to balk, Crying Vauxhall watch.

Oh of pretty wenches, &c.