The Pot Still
Come all you good people I pray you draw near
A comical ditty you quickly shall hear,
Concerning a black cow was made in Redhill
And young Stafford who came there her milk for to spill.
Chorus
Come round my wee lady and give your milk all
You will warm our hearts in spite of them all.
In the town of Redhill where this black cow was made
By Patrick O'Brady, a stout roving blade,
She eats no grass in Summer, in Winter no straw,
But she'll fill up a pail with her head to the wall.
My bonny wee stripper she's both fat and fair,
And search her all over, you'll scarce find one hair,
She has but one teat but she does milk a power
She will fill up a pail with a cow that had four.
When the children get a drop of the milk in their head
With kicks and hard blows they would knock others dead,
The blind and the lame and the lazy and all
With kicks and hard blows they would box and fight all.
The man that informed on me and my cow
That the gallows forever may darken his brow,
May he go without liquor till his skin it is cold
And where is the Christian would pray for his soul?