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ARTHUR McBRIDE Traditional Celtic I once had a comrade named Arthur McBride as we were a-walking along the seaside As we were a-walking to bathe in the tide It was on a fine summer's morning As we were awalking along the sea sand We met Sergeant Napier and Corporal O'Hand And a little wee drummer called Patrick McDan They were going to the fair in the morning O Arthur, my lad, if you would but list Five guineas in gold I would clap in your fist Besides five shilling to kick up the dust And drink the king's health in the morning Na faith, says Arthur, I ken it mysel' I winna gae wi you to rin at your tail I winna gae wi you to rin at your tail And be at your command in the morning O, if you go with us, I'm sure you'll go clean We're not like poor fellows goes dirty and mean We're not like poor fellows goes dirty and mean Gets nothing but gruel in the morning Ye needna be chattin' aboot your fine pay As you go a-marchin' and chattin' away For all that ye hae is a shilling a day To get you some chat in the morning Ye needna be chattin' aboot your fine clothes Ye've only the len o them as I suppose Ye durna sell them in spite o your nose Or you will get flogged in the morning I'm blessed said the sergeant, if I'll take more of that From you or from any young cow-feeding brat And if you tip me any more of your chat I will run you thru in the morning But before they time to draw out their blades Our whacking shillelaghs came over their heads We soon let them see that we were their blades That could temper their pows in the morning As for the wee drummer we tempered his pow And made a football o his row-didi-dow And kicket it in to the ocean to row And take a bit bathe in the morning And as for the weapons that hung by their sides We took them and pitched them far out in the tide May the deil gae wi them, said Arthur McBride If ever we see them returning

    


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