SONG.—O'CARROL.
When I was at home, I was merry and frisky;
My dad kept a pig, and my mother sold whisky:
My uncle was rich, but would never be asy,
Till I was enlisted by Corporal Casey.
Oh! rub a dub, row de dow, Corporal Casey!
My dear little Sheelah I thought would run crazy,
When I trudged away with tough Corporal Casey.
I march'd from Kilkenny, and as I was thinking
On Sheelah, my heart in my bosom was sinking;
But soon I was forced to look fresh as a daisy,
For fear of a drubbing from Corporal Casey.
Och! rub a dub, row de dow, Corporal Casey!
The devil go with him, I ne'er could be lazy,
He stuck in my skirts so, ould Corporal Casey.
We went into battle; I took the blows fairly,
That fell on my pate, but they bother'd me rarely:
And who should the first be that dropp'd? why, an plase ye,
It was my good friend, honest Corporal Casey.
Och! rub a dub, row de dow, Corporal Casey!
Thinks I, you are quiet, and I shall be asy;
So eight years I fought, without Corporal Casey.
[Exit.