In crowds to the bar of some ale-house to flock,
When bred to our bar shall be Gibbses and Garrows,
Assume the silk gown, and discard the smock-frock.
XIII.
For Erin surpasses the daughters of Neptune,
As Dian outshines each encircling star;
And the spheres and the heavens could never have kept tune
Till set to the music of Erin-go-bragh!