Who does not remember Father Prout’s lyric on “The Bells of Shandon”? We venture to quote the four delicious verses in extenso—
With deep affection and recollection
I often think of the Shandon bells,
Whose sounds so wild would, in days of childhood,
Fling round my cradle their magic spells—
[p 124] On this I ponder where’er I wander,
And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee;
With thy bells of Shandon,
That sound so grand on
The pleasant waters of the River Lee.