Patrick astore,[1] what news upon the town?
By my soul there's bad news, for the gold she was pull'd down,
The gold she was pull'd down, of that I'm very sure,
For I saw'd them reading upon the towlsel[2] doore.
Sing, och, och, hoh, hoh.[3]
Arrah! who was him reading? 'twas jauntleman in ruffles,
And Patrick's bell she was ringing all in muffles;
She was ringing very sorry, her tongue tied up with rag,
Lorsha! and out of her shteeple there was hung a black flag.[4]
Sing, och, & c.
Patrick astore, who was him made this law?
Some they do say, 'twas the big man of straw;[5]
But others they do say, that it was Jug-Joulter,[6]
The devil he may take her into hell and Boult-her!
Sing, och, & c.
Musha! Why Parliament wouldn't you maul,
Those carters, and paviours, and footmen, and all;[7]
Those rascally paviours who did us undermine,
Och ma ceade millia mollighart[8] on the feeders of swine!
Sing, och, & c.
A Ballad
Jonathan Swift
(1)
Poem topics: sorry, soul, tongue, town, devil, black, I love you, I miss you, gold, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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