47/48 'My heart so light, quo' she, My lad, is not for you; 'Tis for a soldier bold, With beard of martial hue. 'A feather in his hat, A red heel on his shoe; Who plays upon the flute, And on the fiddle too. Down, down, derrydown.' MORNING, morning drink. 'Change we our shields, and for ourselves assume the trappings of the Greeks.' NEB, nose. |