IV
Then the cards being called for, they play'd,
Till Larry found one of them cheated;
Quick he made a hard rap at his head—
The lad being easily heated,
'So ye chates me bekase I'm in grief!
O! is that, by the Holy, the rason?
Soon I'll give you to know you d—d thief!
That you're cracking your jokes out of sason,
And scuttle your nob with my fist'.
V
Then in came the priest with his book
He spoke him so smooth and so civil;
Larry tipp'd him a Kilmainham look, [7]
And pitch'd his big wig to the devil.
Then raising a little his head,
To get a sweet drop of the bottle,
And pitiful sighing he said,
'O! the hemp will be soon round my throttle,
And choke my poor windpipe to death!'