Another version, from the Bodleian Ballad Collection, Harding B 15(234b):


PAT OF MULLINGAR.

1. I'm going to sing to you a song, if you'll but list to me.
I don't intend to keep you long, and that you'll plainly see.
It's all about my little car, the neatest e'er was seen.
It's painted red and white, and on the door it's green.

CHORUS: She can jog along, trot along, drag an ould Irish car.
No day's too long when she is drove by Pat of Mullingar.

2. The French are coming here, I suppose that you all know.
They don't forget the flogging that they got at Waterloo.
But if they come to Ireland, let it be for peace of war,
I'll drive them to the Strawberry Beds, says Pat of Mullingar

3. You may talk of Flying Dutchman, or the speed of Hark, Away!
Till your head it gets bewildered when you hear what these boys say;
But for real bone and beauty, too, sure you might travel far,
But the swiftest mare you'll find belongs to Pat of Mullingar.

4. She was born at Conamargh and brought up at Castle Bay.
She won cups at the Curragh and her charge it was in Spain.
All countries and communions she has been buckled to.
She lost an ear at Limerick and an eye at Waterloo.

5. Now, should you want a car, sir, I'll drive you where'er you mind.
I'll drive you every where about; I'll drive you out of your mind.
Like an arrow through the air, if you step upon my car,
You'll fly behind the little mare of Pat of Mullingar.