The latter charged the
Dean with inflaming the mob, "I inflame them?" retorted Swift, "were I to
lift but a finger, they would tear you to pieces."--_Scott_.]
A BALLAD
Patrick astore,[1] what news upon the town?
By my soul there's bad news, for the gold she was pull'd down,
The gold she was pull'd down, of that I'm very sure,
For I saw'd them reading upon the towlsel[2] _doore_.
Sing, och, och, hoh, hoh.[3]
Arrah! who was him reading? 'twas _jauntleman_ in ruffles,
And Patrick's bell she was ringing all in muffles;
She was ringing very sorry, her tongue tied up with rag,
Lorsha! and out of her shteeple there was hung a black flag.[4]
Sing, och, &c.
Patrick astore, who was him made this law?
Some they do say, 'twas the big man of straw;[5]
But others they do say, that it was Jug-Joulter,[6]
The devil he may take her into hell and _Boult-her!_
Sing, och, &c.
Musha! Why Parliament wouldn't you maul,
Those _carters_, and paviours, and footmen, and all;[7]
Those rascally paviours who did us undermine,
Och ma ceade millia mollighart[8] on the feeders of swine!
Sing, och, &c.
[Footnote 1: Astore, means my dear, my heart.]
[Footnote 2: The Tholsel, where criminals for the city were tried, and
where proclamations, etc.
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