And the watch-word like mad through Hibernia ran;
“Och! the rint is a mighty fine income,” says Dan.
Daniel O’Connell found nothing would do
But to keep up a regular hullabaloo,
Till he found himself frying like fat in a pan;
“Faith, I’m thinking I’d like to be out on’t,” says Dan.
Daniel O’Connell said rather too much,
About blackguards, and tyrants, and Sassenachs, and such,
Till the Government shut up the turbulent man;
“Arrah! here’s a gintale situation,” says Dan.