Where freemen voted so prompt and well.
That Bell so cheering, our hopes uprearing,
As Green Street nearing we came to poll,
With notes persuasive, soft and adhesive,
And touch evasive of law's control.
There are joy-bells swinging, and sweetly ringing,
Their blithe sounds flinging from Christ Church high
And Father Yore has erected more
On the Liffey's shore to the Four Courts nigh.
But more sublime than their varied chime