Classic Poem

Cotchelin sat all alone,
Devil a soul beside her,
While from Taddy, who was gone,
Oceans did divide her;

His pipes, which she'd been used to hear,
Careless left behind him,
She thought she'd try, her woes to cheer,
Till once again she'd find him.

'Twill not do, you loodle loo,
Arrah now be aesy,
Tad was born with grief to make
Cotchelin run crazy.

II

She takes them up, and lays them down,
And now her bosom's panting,
And now she'd sigh, and now she'd frown,
Caze why? dere's something wanting:

And now she plays the pipes again,
The pipes of her dear Taddy,
And makes them tune his favourite strain,
Arrah be aesy Paddy.

Ah 'twill not do, you loodle loo,
Arrah now be aesy,
Tad was born with grief to make
Cotchelin run crazy.

III

Taddy from behind a bush,
Where he'd long been listening,
Now like lightening forth did rush,
His eyes with pleasure glistening,

Snatching up his pipes, he play'd,
Pouring out his pleasure,
While half delighted, half afraid,
Pat the time did measure:

Ah well will do this loodle loo,
Arrah now be aesy,
Tad was born with joy to make
Cotchelin run crazy.