Though last, not least, ’twas ‘Ireland for ever.’
Then cast a look around, to see all right,
Fell on his back, and wish’d himself good Night.
When now the Sun had three parts clear’d his Course,
Teague started up, and look’d for Mule and Horse;
Pack’d up and loaded, and with gentle stroke,
Touching his Master’s shoulder, he awoke;
‘’Tis time to March, Sir, and more cool the weather.’
John was content, so off they went together;
Reach’d Gallega that night; Punhete next day.