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	The Song Book	3ii

	Bring straw for our bed, shake it down to the feet, Then over us spread the winnowing sheet; To show I don't flinch, fill the bowl up again, Then give us a pinch of your sneeshin a yean. Good Lord, what a sight! after all their good cheer, For people to fight in the midst of their beer! You churl, I maintain my father built Lusk, The castle of Slane, and Carrick Drumrusk. The Earl of Kildare, and Moynalta his brother, As great as they are, I was nurs'd by their mother: Ask that of old madam, she'll tell you who's who, As far up as Adam, she knows it is true. Words (translated from the original Irish) by Dean Swift. Tune O'Rourkes Feast. Prom Bunting's Music of Ireland.