THE IRISH BEAUTY

TUNE:- "Sprig of Shillalah"

  I've been told I'm the son of my mother,
  And I think in my heart I'm no other,
  I'm as pratty a boy as your heart can desire;
  One day says my mother - case I was her joy,
  My darling you are now a hoblety-hoy;
  To make a large fortin Pat find out the way,
  So sometimes I made love and sometimes I made hay,
  And they christen'd me Paddy Mulwarney, Esquire.
  
  The first of my pranks was at little Ratshane,
  Where a spoonful of love just got into my brain,
  All for Judy Delarney, a nate little soul;
  Then to sing all the charms of the girl sure I mane,
  The whole boiling of which I'm just going to name;
  And if in her face, any colour is seen,
  It's either an olive or else bottle green,
  And she's as tall and as fat as a shaver man's pole.
  
  She's a nate taper waist like a butt in the middle,
  She plays on the Jew's harp and I on the fiddle,
  And Och! but such music there never was heard;
  Her eyes were as black - on my soul I'm no joker,
  As two holes in a blanket that's burnt with a poker,
  And as for their brightness I'll tell you what's more,
  They're like two scalded gooseberries stuck in a door,
  And she strikes me so dumb that I can't speak a word.
  
  Och! Judy's the creature whenever she's ripe,
  For chewing tobacco or smoking a pipe;
  And she sits in the corner as black as ould scratch;
  She's a nate row of teeth - nay, she's two by me soul,
  And her tongue sticks between like a toad in the hole;
  She's like a goose pie above all other things,
  For she's nothing but giblets and gizzards and wings;
  The devil himself sure can't find her a match.
  
  Och! Judy, sweet Judy, the joy of my life,
  Search all the world o'er you'll not find such a wife,
  At least if you do 'twill be devilish queer;
  She squints, and the rason of that I suppose,
  Is because both her eyes are afraid of her nose,
  Her cheeks green as leeks - put me all in a bustle,
  And she opens her mouth as you'd open a muscle,
  And then it extends from ear to ear.
  
  The a nate pair of beautiful legs she has got,
  Wid the calves at the bottom instead of the top,
  And she dances away with a devilish twist.
  Then as for her singing, Och! bless her sweet pipes,
  She's just like a short-winded sow in the gripes;
  When she laughs, or she twitters, or strains her sweet throat,
  Her cheeks hang in puckers just like a top coat;
  You might take out a yard and 'twould never be miss'd.
  
  Then all at our wedding sung whack! pilliloo!
  W'd a shillalah fight and a real hububoboo!
  And all lay so genteely drunk on the floor;
  Then the bells of the church rang so merrily boys,
  You'd have given five pounds to have been out the noise;
  So we just slipp'd to bed, and the very next morn,
  We'd two daughters, and both of them Irishmen born;
  And each is handsonme as Judy herself.