Ye lasses and bucks, leave off your sly looks,
While I tell you of one Thady O'Brady;
Who courted Miss Reilly, so smug and so slyly,
Determined to make her his lady.
But before he'd begin to commit that great sin,
Which the clergy they call matrimony;
He's furniture all he would tell at one call,
That he'd give to his own darling honey.
A bolster quilt, blankets and sheets too;
A straw curtain, one side to the rafters well tied,
And a purty dale board at our feet too.
In one corner some meal, in another a pail
Of sweet milk and roll'd butter hard by it;
Some salt in a barrel and for fear we should quarrel,
Some whisky to keep us both quietFour knives and four forks, four bottles and corks,
Salt butter a store, and salt herrings galore;
With good praties as much as she wishes