7
How he’d laugh then and whistle, and sing too, most sweet,
Saying, just to a hair I've made both ends to meet.
Derry down, &c.
Saying, just to a hair I've made both ends to meet.
Derry down, &c.
But love the disturber of high and of low,
That shoots at the peasant as well as the beau,
He shot the poor Cobbler quite through the heart;
I wish he had hit some more ignoble part.
Derry down, &c.
That shoots at the peasant as well as the beau,
He shot the poor Cobbler quite through the heart;
I wish he had hit some more ignoble part.
Derry down, &c.
It was from a cellar this archer did play,
Where a buxom young damsel continually lay;
Her eyes shone so bright, when she rose ev'ry day,
That she shot the poor Cobbler quite over the way.
Derry down, &c.
Where a buxom young damsel continually lay;
Her eyes shone so bright, when she rose ev'ry day,
That she shot the poor Cobbler quite over the way.
Derry down, &c.
He sung her love songs as he sat at his work,
But she was as hard as a Jew or a Turk;
Whenever he spake she would flounce and fleer,
Which put the poor Cobbler quite into dispair.
Derry down, &c.
But she was as hard as a Jew or a Turk;
Whenever he spake she would flounce and fleer,
Which put the poor Cobbler quite into dispair.
Derry down, &c.
