Summary

Fair maid in bedlam, or, The deceitful Irish boy (1803)

How I have been wounded, and in love I’ve been slain
In the strong walls of bedlam I’m forc’d to remain.
When first I was courted by my love an Irish boy,
He call’d'me his jewel, his delight, and his joy;
In fair Dublin city, that place of great fame,
Where my bonny Irish-Boy first a courting to me came.
He talked of love, and he promised to wed,
But in short time after he stole my maidenhead;
Believe me, dear maidens, I could not forbear,
For the loving of my Irish-Boy I do declare.
Down in yon meadow I chanced for to walk,
O there I heard my lovely Irish-Boy for to talk
Source: Wikisource

Fair maid in bedlam, or, The deceitful Irish boy (1803)

If I was in my own country, near Newry I dwell,
But yet to misfortunes my love I was prone,
Which made many a hero go far from his home.
⁠Sir the lads of sweet Newry are all roving blades,
And take great delight in courting fair maids,
Tbey kiss them & press them, & call them their own,
And perhaps your darling lies mourning at home.
Source: Wikisource

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