He caught me by the corderoys,
And lugged me right a-way.
My cuss upon Lord Melbun, and
On Jonny Russ-all-so,
That forc’d me from my native land
Across the vaves to go-o-oh.
But all their spiteful arts is wain,
My spirit down to keep;
I hopes I’ll soon git back again,
To take another peep.