Are Erin’s sons in virtue so ripe
As not to be tempted by potheen and pipe?
“Och misther! I fear not a boy in the place,
For I’m the girl that can batther a face;
And though they love potheen and pipes d’ye see,
The devil a drop will they get from me!”
On she went with her cup in her hand,
In safety all over that lonely land;
And barefoot and saucy was she who relied
On that fist of her own, that swung by her side.