The Town of Passage
The town of Passage is neat and spacious
And situated upon the sea,
'Tis neat and decent and quite contagious
To go to Cork on a bright summer's day;
'Tis there you'd see both night and morning
The men of war with fresh flowing sails,
The bould lieutenants and the tars so jolly,
All steering for Cork in a hackney chaise.
'Tis there's a statue drawn after nature,
That leaps from the mud to the dry land,
A lion or leopard or some fierce creature
With a reading made easy all in his hand.
There's a rendezvous house for each bold hero
For to take on whose heart beats high,
The colours adrooping and the children's rockets
All pinned across it hanging out to dry.
'Tis there's a strand too that's decked with oar weeds
and tender gob-stones and mussel shells;
And there's skeehories, and what's still more is
A comely fresh flowing water rill,
'Tis there the ladies when the day of break is
And tender lovers do often pelt,
Some a-airing and some a-bathing
All mother naked to enjoy their health.
And there's a ferry boat that's quite convenient
Where men and horses to take a ride
'Tis there is clover you may pass over
To Carrigaloe on the other side;
There may be seen-o the sweet marino
With its trees so greeno and its fruit so red
Brave White Point and right forninst it
The Giant's stairs and sweet Horse's Head.