The front room of Eve Adam fill’d full of sin,
Well feather’d without, and well furnish’d within.
LITTLE PERU,
OR THE
WICKLOW GOLD-MINE.
I.
My sweet native land, the first place of my birth there,
Good luck to you dear if the story be true,
In your bowels I’m told on the face of the earth there,
Lies Mexico’s wealth, a snug little Peru;
Back to Ireland I’ll trot and fall digging for riches,