Traditional Irish Folk
The President’s Ball
No doubt you've all heard of the hop of Tim Lannigan
'Twas nothing to what I will tell you about
At a spree I once had in great Washington City
To see which I got all my new clothes out of spout
One evening a ticket I got for the White House
All dressed in my best on old Abe I did call
Be jabbers, the fun it will ne'er be forgotten
The night I did dance at the president's ball
A servant, he stood at the door for to take me to
Where Abraham and his lady did stand
So nervous I felt that a trifle would shake mе
Til the lady herself took mе gently in hand
But when they struck up with a hundred wee fiddles
And Billy O'Seward the dances did call
There was me and old Chase and his wife and his daughters
Danced Father Jack Walsh at the president's ball
There was Henry Beecher and Barnum's "What-is-it"
And the mayor of Squedunk with an Albany gal
With ten thousand sutlers and army contractors
And brigadier generals no figures could tell
There was Fernandy Wood and a host of place seekers
But soon a loud shout did ascend through the hall
'Twas the people applauding brave Grant and McClellan
The pride and the joy of the president's ball
A soldier, he came and he tried for to enter
With medals for battles all over his breast
But being a private nobody durst venture
To let him come in there of shoddy the best
The British ambassador when ready to leave
And he managed to steal Mrs. Cunningham's shawl
And Miles O'Reilly, the prince of all poets
He pinched all the spoons at the president's ball
When daylight broke, they stopped all the dancing
And then there commenced such a hullabaloo
For Senator Sumner, he drank to Jeff Davis
And Stanton, he swore he would quick put them through
Then at it they went like Tom King and Heenan
The police rushed in as the ladies did squall
They carried Abe Lincoln home drunk on a stretcher
And that put an end to the president's ball