PADDY's FAREWELL

Don't blubber, dear Norah, I beg you'd be easy, For soon will you see your sond Paddy again, Returning with laurels, with liberty crazy, An eye or two less, or a limb or two lame.

Sing ditheru, how d'ye do, Patrick Shelalay, To the right about, fight it out, all the day long; Cut and slash, Frenchmen hash, pop away gaily, Suck away, while you may, whisky so strong!

I'm going to beat all the Frenchmen, my jewel, Because they presume to make laws of their own; They want all men equal—that would be dam'd cruel, For then each great monarch must jump from his throne. Sing ditheru, &c.

Then what do you think of their roguish convention? They plunder'd their bishops because they were poor; Depriv'd ev'ry knave of his title and pension, And turn'd all the Nuns and the Monks out of door, Sing ditheru, &c.

And then they've abolish'd belief in damnation, To save the expence of a priest or a church; For now, I am told, Sans Culottes congregation Have left popes and crosiers and beads in the lurch. Sing ditheru, &c.

That priests have come over to live by subscription, No doubt its much better than seeding on frogs; I'd make them a gift of a fitter description, By subscribing—a halter a piece to the dogs. Sing ditheru, &c.

Of treason they think that a king can be guilty! Their own they condemn'd for not keeping his word; They say to their subjects, all kings should swear fealty, Not their subjects to them—och monstrous absurd! Sing ditheru, &c.

And as (what exceeds all their former transgressions) They've trampled on king crast, and pull'd down her throne; Let's unite with the Austrians, Prussians, and Hessians, As we're without sin, let us cast the first stone! Sing ditheru, &c.