A Broadside: No. 9
300 copies only.
Your People draw near to what I'm going to relate,
And you will be surprised at the wonders I saw of late,
I saw a small trout devouring up a large whale,
And the Royal Exchange concealed on the shell of a snail.
I saw a small mouse devouring a large cat,
And the new Custom House thrown down by the wing of a bat;
I saw high Shandon steeple for a needle with it a tailor did sew,
And I saw the new brigade making wigs for the Co. Mayo.
I saw Barrack-hill in the bill of a small bantam hen,
And Waterford City going down to sit in Spillen,
I saw a buck flea sieving hay for the lord of Tyrone,
And Kilkenny town going down to visit Athlone.
I saw the hill of Howth in a boat sail down Kildare,
And the Co. of Cork ride off to the sweet Co. Clare,
I saw Limerick city placed down in a basket of buns,
And the old Royal George in Lough Rea firing off her guns.
I saw Mullingar in a car drawn by a jackass,
And sweet Cashel Town drawing salt to Carrickmacross,
I saw Enniskillen distilling strong whiskey in Athy,
And the Empress of Greece plucking geese in a village close by.
I saw an old ram beat a drum in the Town of Tralee,
And an overgrown pig dance a jig in the fair of Ardee,
I heard a blind piper play ninty-nine hundred fine songs, And a goat standing by playing Mattie Malone on the tongs.
I saw a blacksmith forging out a wooden tombstone,
And a wooden legged tailor weaving old spades in a loom,
I saw a felt hat that was tanned by a baker in Louth,
And I saw the river Shannon without either salmon or trout.
I saw Dingle Town frying Bantry Bay in a pan,
And the whole earthly globe turned round in an old watering can,
I saw a cow had horns one hundred feet long,
And a goat making brogues and he hammering his leather ding dong.
I saw the first man that ever stood upon earth,
And ninty-nine times I stood in the place of his birth,
And a lark in the air she sailed to the fair of Macroom,
And I saw an old carpenter driving a nail in the moon.
Instead of pure water I saw whiskey flowing in the Lea,
And many strange things I am sure no other did see,
These wonders being great and all without telling a lie,
Where is the man born seen so many wonders as I.
They all call Peter Pete,
But when they call he isn't in:
His crooked toes are in the street,
His head's in pewter from the heat.
And in the sun they call and call,
But Peter Grumpy's never in-
He's never in at all!