O, is that, by the Holy, the rason?
Soon I'll give you to know, you d-d thief,
That you're cracking your jokes out of sason,
And scuttle your nob with my fist."
Then in came the priest with his book,
He spoke him so smooth and so civil,
Larry tipped him a Kilmainham look,
And pitched his big wig to the divil.
Then raising a little his head
To get a sweet drop of the bottle,