Bumper Squire Jones waltz

Carolan composition who gives words. in celebration of his host. Word by O’Carolan and by another prankster (fiddler)staying with Mr Jones at the same time makes for an amusing story. If you are interested, see No. 65.p198 from Donal O’Sullivan’s “The Life and Times of an Irish Harper”. Played allegretto.

None of the recorded versions follow this setting, with the strange 7 bar first part. Jimmy O’Brien-Moran transcribed Paddy Moloney’s playing of it for An Piobaire, that is the setting that should be offered here. This is more of a historical curiosity.

Looking for the complete (or as complete as can be managed) lyrics for the O’Carolan / Dawson song “Bumper Squire Jones” (Tomás Muiris Jones).

I’ve found most I think, but would like to try and get them all…and in order (if there is any set order to the verses). Thanks to any who might be able to help.

X: 124
T:Bumper Squire Jones
M:6/8
L:1/8
C:Turlough O’Carolan
Z:Rachel Marsh
K:D
A | FED d2 D | FAF GBA | BEF G2 A | FED d2 e |
fed edc | ABd ABc | dcd Bec | dDD D3 :||
fg | ~a3 dfa | bgb efg | agf efd | cec A2 d |
faf geg | faf ~g2 a | fed cBc | dDD D3 :||

X: 124
T:Bumper Squire Jones
M:6/8
L:1/8
C:Turlough O’Carolan
K:D
A/G/ | FED d2 D | FG/A/D FDA | BEF G2 A | FED d2 e |
gf/e/d edc | ABd ABc | dcd Bec | dDD D2 :||
fg | a3 dfa | bgb efg | agf efd | cec A2 d |
faf geg | faf geg | fed cBc | dDD D3 :||

I found what I take to be the full lyrics while Googling - might as well put them here.

The rendition here has all of the verses below and also follows the seven-bar first part structure:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zPRmFBsZv0&list=RDMMDdUTexKy5gg&index=3

play video

BUMPER, SQUIRE JONES.

Ye good-fellows all,
Who love to be told where there’s claret good store,
Attend to the call
Of one who’s ne’er frighted,
But greatly delighted,
With six bottles more:
Be sure you don’t pass
The good house Money-glass,
Which the jolly red god so peculiarly owns;
’Twill well suit your humour,
For pray what would you more,
Than mirth, with good claret, and bumpers, Squire Jones.

Ye lovers, who pine
For lasses that oft prove as cruel as fair,
Who whimper and whine
For lilies and roses,
With eyes, lips, and noses,
Or tip of an ear:
Come hither, I’ll show you,
How Phillis and Chloe,
No more shall occasion such sighs and such groans;
For what mortal so stupid
As not to quit Cupid,
When called by good claret and bumpers, Squire Jones.

Ye poets, who write,
And brag of your drinking fam’d Helicon’s brook,
Though all you get by ’t
Is a dinner oft-times,
In reward of your rhymes,
With Humphry the duke:
Learn Bacchus to follow
And quit your Apollo,
Forsake all the Muses, those senseless old crones:
Our jingling of glasses,
Your rhyming surpasses,
When crowned with good claret, and bumpers, Squire Jones.

Ye soldiers so stout,
With plenty of oaths, tho’ no plenty of coin,
Who make such a rout
Of all your commanders
Who served us in Flanders,
And eke at the Boyne:
Come leave off your rattling
Of sieging and battling,
And know you’d much better to sleep in whole bones;
Were you sent to Gibraltar
Your notes you’d soon alter,
And wish for good claret, and bumpers, Squire Jones.

Ye clergy so wise,
Who myst’ries profound can demonstrate most clear,
How worthy to rise!
You preach once a week,
But your tithes never seek
Above once in a year:
Come hero without failing,
And leave off your railing
’Gainst bishops providing for dull stupid drones;
Says the text so divine,
What is life without wine?
Then away with the claret,—a bumper, Squire Jones.

Ye lawyers so just,
Be the cause what it will, who so learnedly plead,
How worthy of trust!
You know black from white,
Yet prefer wrong to right
As you chanc’d to be fee’d:
Leave musty reports,
And forsake the king’s courts,
Where dulness and discord have set up their thrones;
Hum Salkeld and Ventris,
With all your damn’d Entries,
And away with the claret,—a bumper, Squire Jones.

Ye physical tribe,
Whose knowledge consists in hard words and grimace,
Whene’er you prescribe,
Have at your devotion,
Pills, bolus, or potion,
Be what will the case:
Pray where is the need
To purge, blister, and bleed?
When ailing yourselves the whole faculty owns,
That the forms of old Galen
Are not so prevailing
As mirth with good claret,—and bumpers, Squire Jones.

Ye foxhunters eke,
That follow the call of the horn and the hound,
Who your ladies forsake,
Before they’re awake.
To heat up the brake
Where the vermin is found:
Leave Piper and Blueman,
Shrill Duchess and Trueman;
No music is found in such dissonant tones:
Would you ravish your ears
With the songs of the spheres,
Hark away to the claret,—a bumper. Squire Jones.