BALLAD. (Sweet ditties would my Patty sing)

Sweet ditties would my Patty sing, Old Chevy Chace, God save the King, Fair Rosemy, and Sawny Scot, Lilebularo, the Irish Trot, All these would sing my blue-ey'd Patty,

As with her pail she'd trudge along, While still the burden of her song My hammer beat to blue-ey'd Patty.

But nipping frosts and chilling rain Too soon, alas! chok'd every strain; Too soon, alas! the miry way Her wet-shod feet did sore dismay, And hoarse was heard my blue-ey'd Patty:

While I for very mad did cry; Ah could I but again, said I, Here the sweet voice of blue-ey'd Patty!

Love taught me how, I work'd, I sung, My anvil glow'd, my hammer rung, Till I had form'd from out the fire, To bear her feet above the mire, An engine for my blue ey'd Patty.

Again was heard each tuneful close; My fair one on the patten rose, Which takes its name from blue-ey'd Patty