And those who now quit their hods, shovels, and barrows,
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 excels each encircling star;
And the spheres of the heavens could never have kept tune
Till set to the music of Erin-go-bragh!
——:o:——