Now on one dreary winter's night, O'Flyn she went to bed,
The whisky-bottle under her arm, (the whisky in her head,)
The six great large tom-cats they sat all in a dismal row,
And horridly glared their hungry eyes—their tails wagg'd to and fro
At last one grim greymalkin spoke in accents dire to tell,
And dreadful were the words which in his awful whisper fell—
When all the other five tom-cats in answer loud did squall,
"Let's kill her—and let's eat her—body and bones and all!"
Oh horrible! oh terrible! oh deadly tale to tell!
When the sun shone in the window-hole all there seem'd still and well;