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| THERE was a lady lived at Leith, | |
| A lady very stylish, man; | |
| And yet, in spite of all her teeth, | |
| She fell in love with an Irishman— | |
| A nasty, ugly Irishman, | 5 |
| A wild, tremendous Irishman, | |
| A tearing, swearing, thumping, bumping, ranting, roaring Irishman. | |
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| His face was no ways beautiful, | |
| For with small-pox ’t was scarred across; | |
| And the shoulders of the ugly dog | 10 |
| Were almost double a yard across. | |
| Oh, the lump of an Irishman, | |
| The whiskey-devouring Irishman, | |
| The great he-rogue with his wonderful brogue—the fighting, rioting Irishman. | |
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| One of his eyes was bottle-green, | 15 |
| And the other eye was out, my dear; | |
| And the calves of his wicked-looking legs | |
| Were more than two feet about, my dear. | |
| Oh, the great big Irishman, | |
| The rattling, battling Irishman— | 20 |
| The stamping, ramping, swaggering, staggering, leathering swash of an Irishman. | |
| |
| He took so much of Lundy-foot | |
| That he used to snort and snuffle—O! | |
| And in shape and size the fellow’s neck | |
| Was as bad as the neck of a buffalo. | 25 |
| Oh, the horrible Irishman, | |
| The thundering, blundering Irishman— | |
| The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, thrashing, hashing Irishman. | |
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| His name was a terrible name, indeed, | |
| Being Timothy Thady Mulligan; | 30 |
| And whenever he emptied his tumbler of punch | |
| He ’d not rest till he filled it full again. | |
| The boozing, bruising Irishman, | |
| The ’toxicated Irishman— | |
| The whiskey, frisky, rummy, gummy, brandy, no dandy Irishman. | 35 |
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| This was the lad the lady loved, | |
| Like all the girls of quality; | |
| And he broke the skulls of the men of Leith, | |
| Just by the way of jollity. | |
| Oh, the leathering Irishman, | 40 |
| The barbarous, savage Irishman— | |
| The hearts of the maids, and the gentlemen’s heads, were bothered I ’m sure by this Irishman. | |
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