This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1817 Excerpt: ...sound, No malice or hatred is there to be found; He courts and he marries, he drinks, and he fights, For love, all for love, for in that fife delights, With his sprig of shillelah, and shamrock so green Who has e'er bad the luck to see Donnybrook fair, An Irishman all in his glory is there, With bis sprig of shillelah, and shamrock so green. His clothes spick and span new, without e'er a speck, A clean Barcelona tied round his nate neck; Me goes to a tent, and he spends his half-crown, He meets with a friend, and for love knocks him down, With hit sprig of sliillelah, and shamrock so green. At ev'ning returning, as homeward he goes. His heart sof'twith whiskey,his headsoft with blows, From the sprig of shillelah,and shamrock so green; He meets with his Sheelah, who, blushing a smile, Cries, "Get ye gone, Pat," yet consents all the while. To the priest soon they go; and nine months after that, A fine baby cries, "How d'ye do, father Pat, "With your sprig of shillelah, and (hamrock so '« green f" Bless the country, say, I, that gave Patrick his birth, Blesstheland of the oak,and its neighbouring earth. Where grows the shillelah, and shamrock so green. May the sons of the Thames, the Tweed, and the Shannon? Drub the French who dare plant on our confines a cannon: United and happy, at loyalty's shrine, May the rose and the thistle long flourish and twine Round a sprig of shillelah. and shamrock so green. Paddy Macshane's Seven Ages. To the same Air. If my own botheration don't alter my plan, I'll sing seven lines of a tight Irishman, Wrote by old Billy Shakespeare of Ballyporeen, He said while a babe I lov'd whisky and pap, That I mewled and puk'd in my grandmother's lap; She joulted me hard, just to hush my sweet roar, When I slip...