Air, ” Ballinamori Orah.”, (Beuler.)

WHEN old uncle died, then he left me his cash,
And I in the fashion determined to dash ;
With my bright sparkling eyes and fine flashy ways,
I knew I should soon set the world in a blaze:
Relations all called me a noody,
But I was determined they should see
I would, and I should, and I could be
An exquisite beautiful man.

I purchased whip, gloves, and a large quizzing-glass,
Revolving-heel boots, and bright spurs of brass ;
Wigs, whiskers, and wrist-bands, and neat pair of
A high-mettled racer, and high-seated chaise:
To the tailor I then did dash on,
Said I, ” make a coat in the fashion,
For in the mode I would flash on,
Because I’m a beautiful man.”

I put on my stays, and soon I was drest
In pigeon-tailed coat, padded full at the breast ;
I slipped on my boots, and then I arose
So high, that I walked on the points of my toes:
My loose white trowsers, so handy,
Concealed my legs so bandy,
And made me appear quite the dandy,
And that is a beautiful man.

Now friends quizzed my pigeon-toes and pigeon-chest,
That is my pigeon-tailed coat, padded full at the breast,
And said, if ’twere not for my whiskers and eyes,
They should take me to be a great girl in disguise,
Or perhaps for a duck or a widgeon,
Or, rather, they all did allege on,
For a crow dressed up for a pigeon,
Instead of a beautiful man.

At balls, concerts, and plays I now did appear,
Where I talked, roared, and laughed, that no one
might hear ; I ogled the girls with my beautiful eyes
Till they all praised my beauty up to the skies;
Said I was an exquisite riddle,
Like both a beau and a fiddle,
Pinched in at the sides and the middle,
And sighed, what a beautiful man!

As the sun of the fashion I wanted to blaze,
So I hired a porter to lace up my stays ;
I was courting a lady of exquisite mien,
And I would be compact and fit to be seen :

I cried, ” pull the lace with all might, sir ;
Now pull it a little bit tighter,,
Oh la ! how I shall delight her l
Shell call me a beautiful man.”

Then I put on my whiskers, mustachios, and wig,
And waistcoat adorned with a lavender-sprig:
With rings on my finger, and patch on my chin,
I walked through the streets with a beautiful grin:
I was scented with musk and with roses,
And smelt like a bundle of posies,
The passengers sniffed up their noses
And cried, ” What a beautiful man!”

Arrived at the door, I gave a loud double rap,
Which made the street echo like a great thunderclap,
The maid opened the door, and up stairs she ran,
Crying out, ” My dear ma’am, here’s a beautiful man!”
When I was introduced to the lady,
She cried, in astonishment ” Hey day !
You’ve come to court me!”, I said, ” Ay ”
Said she, ” What a beautiful man!”

She admired me much, for she asked me to dine
With her friends, who, I’m sure, all thought me divine;
I sat down to dine, when my spurs, cursed fates!
Caught the cloth, and I fell, with pies, puddings, and plates :
With plum pie my face was soon painted,
My stays keep me in restraint, did,
I couldn’t get up,, so I fainted;
Now ar’n't I a beautiful man’!

From: The Universal Songster, or Museum of Mirth. Vol. 1, 1825.