Push for PORTER

One day for my amusement,
it being on a Thursday the first of June,
as the sun passed o'er the meridian,
it being in the afternoon,
near the dwelling of a gentleman,
short time I did remain,
but little I thought that I might be caught,
in the snares of Sarah Jane.

As I sat forninst yon hawthorn fence,
I had scarce commenced my thought,
when the north wind breeze my ear did please,
as distant footsteps brought
to me she cried when passing by
and how I felt the pain,
but she made me curse then the pain felt worse,
when I met with Sarah Jane.

I was much surprised and I could not rise
When she gave to me her hand.
I my heart I thought hard is your lot
To plough through such rough land.
Though the pay is not much for gathering scutch,
short time I did remain,
then she bade me adieu and from me flew,
and away went Sarah Jane.

It was on that spot where I was deep in thought,
I had scarce commenced my woe,
when a blackbird spoke from a bower stalk,
my mind he seemed to know,
saying if you could fly just the same as I,
your wings and your voice you would strain,
for you'd be whistling shrill on the window sill,
surmising Sarah Jane.

When the skylark sings well her wings she spreads,
then I commenced to make my moan,
and the landrail out from her grassy bed
seemed with me to intone.
Though her voice was coarse and grating,
still her notes they were sharp and plain,
saying you might as well go home and sing your poem,
for you'll ne'er wed with Sarah Jane.

Well if I had yonder valley and diamonds,
I would leave them at her command,
or if I had Aladdin's wondrous lamp,
it would shine supremely grand,
or by building castles in the air,
great pleasure I might obtain,
but I'd prefer to spend my days in happy ways
in the arms of Sarah Jane.

But now the pain it is decreasing daily,
and a roving she may go,
she can call at Liza Kealey's
as she passes through Myroe,
she can drink from a bottle of the best,
and drink unto the poet's name,
and I hope always she'll have happy days,
the maid called Sarah Jane.