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