“First tell me your sins,” says Father Molloy,
“For I’m thinking you’ve not been a very good boy.”
“Oh,” says Paddy, “so late in the evenin’, I fear,
’Twould throuble you such a long story to hear,
For you’ve ten long miles o’er the mountains to go,
While the road I’ve to travel’s much longer, you know.
So give us your blessin’ and get in the saddle;
To tell all my sins my poor brain it would addle;
And the docther gave ordhers to keep me so quiet—
’Twould disturb me to tell all my sins, if I’d thry it,