But, bedad, for all her stricture on the paintin’ of the picture,
There were some of ’em a-bouncin’ in the swithers—true for me—
When the Tidy Little Body married Lanty Hallissey.
THE PILLAR OF THE CHURCH
Faith, ’tis good to see him comin’ when the bell for Mass is flingin’
Gladsome golden notes appealin’ on the Sabbath-softened air,
Sweet compellin’ invitations to the congregation stringin’
Up the road to old St. Michael’s, on the blessed day of prayer.
You might seek the boundin’ gait of him in any youth or maiden
With the rhythmic pulse of summer, and in vain would be the search;