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HEY HO, THE MORNING DEW.* |
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2.
My mother bought a likely hen
On last St. Martin's day: She clucks and clucks and clucks again;
But never yet will lay. Sing Hey ho, &c. |
3-O Mustard is my brother's dog,
Who whines and wags his tail, And snuffs into the market bag— But dar' not snatch the meal. Sing Hey ho, &c. |
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When walls lie down for steeds to step,
When eggs themselves go lay, And the groats jump into Mustard's jaws.
To you my court I'll pay! Sing Hey ho, &c.
* Founded on an old song, the words and air of which were given us by Miss Honoria Galwey, of Moville, Co. Donegal, |
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H. 4868. |
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