Barney Brallaghan’s courtship

From Bodleian broadside ballad dated c1815
'Twas on a windy night at two o'clock in the morning,
An Irish lad so tight, all wind and weather scorning,
At Judy Callaghan's door, sitting upon her palings,
His love tale he did pour, and this was part of his wailings:

Only say, you'll have Mr Brallaghan.
Don't say nay, my charming Judy Callaghan.

Oh, list to what I say. Charms you've got like Venus.
Own your love you may; there's only the wall between us.
You lay fast asleep, snug in bed and snoring.
Round the house I creep, your hard heart imploring.

I've got nine pigs and a sow, and also a sty to sleep 'em,
A calf and a brindled cow, and got a cabin to keep 'em;
Sunday hose and coat, an old gray ass to ride on,
Saddle and bridle to boot, which you may sit astride on.

I've got a Tom cat, through one eye he's staring.
I've got a Sunday hat, little the worse for wearing.
I've got some gooseberry wine. The trees had got no riper on.
I've got a fiddle fine, which only wants a piper on.

I've got an acre of ground. I've got it set with pratees.
I've got of 'baccy a pound; got some tea for the ladies.
I've got the ring to wed, some whiskey to make us gaily,
A mattress, feather bed, and a handsome new shillelagh.

I've got a cabin fine as ever the sun did shine on.
I've got an old tablecloth, which you shall have to dine on.
I've got three ships at sea, two of them bound for Limerick,
One with coffee and tea, the other with three square gimlets.

You've got a charming eye, and got some spelling and reading.
You've got, and so have I, a taste for genteel breeding.
You're rich and fair and young, as everyone's knowing.
You've got a decent tongue whene'er 'tis set a-going.

For a wife till death I am willing to take ye,
But och! I waste my breath. The devil himself can't wake ye.
'Tis just beginning to rain, so I'll get under cover.
I'll come tomorrow again, and be your constant lover."