They may talk of Flying Childers
And the speed of Harkaway,
Till the fancy it bewilders,
As you list to what they say,
But for real bone and beauty,
Tho' you travel near and far,
The fairest mare you'll find
Belongs to Pat of Mullingar.
2. She was bred in Connamara,
And brought up at Castlemaine.
She won cups at the Curragh,
And a charger was in Spain.
All countries and conveyances
She has been buckled to;
She lost an eye at Limerick
And at Aughrim lost a shoe.
3. If a friend you wish to find, sir,
I'll go where'er you want;
I'll drive you out o' your mind, sir,
Or a little way beyant
Like an arrow through the air,
If you'll step upon the car,
You'll ride behind the little mare
Of Pat of Mullingar.
| 4. If Baldoyle or Killiney,
Is the place you wish to see,
Or I'll drive you to the Strawberry Beds
It's all the same to me;
To Donnybrook, whose ancient fair
Was famed for love and war,
Or if you have the time to spare,
We'll go to Mullingar.
5. When on the road we're going,
The other carmen try,
Without the darling knowin',
To pass her on the sly;
Her one ear points up to the sky,
She tucks her haunches in,
Then shows the lads how she can fly,
As I sit still and grin.
6. Then should you want a car, sirs,
I hope you'll not forget
Poor Pat of Mullingar, sirs,
And his darling little pet;
She's as gentle as the dove,
And her speed you can't deny,
And there's no blind side about her,
Tho' she only has one eye.
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