Battle of the Boyn, or, King William crossing the Boyn Water (1)/Tarry Woo
To its own Proper Tune.
T ARRY woo, tarry woo,
Tarry woo is ill to ſpin,
Card it well, card it well,
Card it well ere ye begin.
When 'tis carded, rov'd and ſpun,
Then the wark is haflens done;
But when woven, dreſt, and clean,
It may be cleading for a queen.
Sing my bonny harmleſs ſheep,
That feed upon the mountains ſteep
Bleating ſweetly as they go,
Thro' the winter's froſt and ſnow;
Hart and hind, and fallow deer,
No by ha'f ſo uſeful are;
Frae kings to him that hauds the plow,
Are all oblig'd to tarry woo.
Up ye ſhepherds, dance and ſkip,
O'er the hills and valleys trip,
Sing up the praiſe of tarry woo,
Sing the flocks that bear it too:
Harmleſs creatures, without blame,
That clead the back and cram the wame,
Keeps us warm and hearty fu';
Leeſe me on the tarry woo.
How happy is a ſhepherd's life!
Far frae courts, and free of ſtrife,
While the gimmers bleat and bae,
And the lambkin's anſwer-Mae!
No ſuch muſic to his ear,
Of thief and fox he has no fear;
Sturdy kent, and colly too,
Well defend the tarry woo.
He lives content, and envies none;
Not ev'n a monarch on his throne,
Tho' he the royal ſceptre ſways,
Has not ſweeter holy days.
Who'd be a king, can ony tell,
When a ſhepherd lives ſo well;
Sings ſae well, and pays his due,
With honeſt heart and carry woo.
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