By Jasus I’ll give you a belly full on’t
And if green is de colour you like, by de mass,
You’ll be plas’d when all Dublin is cover’d wid grass.
But, says Teague, now, by Union, what is it dey mane?
Sure ’tis binding three nations all fast in one chain.
’Tis a shame which quite bodder’s one’s brain faith and troth,
For ’tis worse for de one yet it’s better for both.
Is not Johnny Fitzgibbon gone straight to de King?
Oh! between ’em how nately dey’ll settle de ting!
He’ll drive a rare job for us all, you may swear,