#376 - The Widow Nolan's Goat
- Composer:
- David Braham
- Incipit: 56715552443556766532356
- Condensed Incipit: 567152435676532356
- Lyrics:
Oh, I'ma lone widdy, meself and my daughter;
We live in a house where there's welcome galore;
My husband he formally carried up mortar
From the ground to the third or fourth floor;
When he died he will'd over the land and the shanty;
His pipe and his stick, and his frieze overcoat;
The pig and the goslins, the chickens so banty,
And his favorite pet, Oh, my buck Billy Goat.
chorus:
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, hone;
Come back to my bosom, my own darling Billy,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, hone;
My favorite pet, oh my buck Billy Goat.
(repeat chorus)
Wid horses he slept ev'ry night in the stable;
He'd rise in the morn at the break o' the day;
When breakfast was ready he'd come to the table;
Sure I never could drive him away;
He could butt down a fence oh so gentle and aisy;
He'd stand near the pond for to see the ducks float;
He'd climb o'er the hills, sure he never was lazy;
My own favorite pet, Oh, my buck Billy Goat.
His whiskers were long like the Wandering Jew man;
He ate up old hoop-skirts, newspapers and rags;
When a kid he belonged to young Mary Ann Doolan
He would skip and sleep out on the flags;
'Twas a blast from the quarry struck him on the shoulder
The morning my husband went out for to vote;
He laid sick abed from the fall of the boulder,
Did my favorite pet, Oh, my buck Billy Goat.
He'd fight like a trooper; his horns were like sabers;
He'd bate all the goats for so many miles round;
Sure he'd butt at a stranger, butt never a neighbor;
Sure they could not take him to the pound;
Oh, his right name was Willy, but I called him Billy;
He was my companion; on him sure I'd dote;
So fond of sunflowers and daffydowndillies
Was my favorite pet, Oh, my buck Billy Goat.
His white hairs were silken, they hung long and drooping;
He traveled some time with Mike Reagan's Big Nan;
If a child in the neighborhood took on a crooping,
He'd halt and he'd gaze like a man;
All the dogs and the cats sure they'd never come near him;
Wid his horns he would puck them a terrible smote;
The long years and days it took me for to rear him,
Oh, my favorite pet, Oh, my buck Billy Goat.
- Edward Harrigan
