"My tale," I sighed, "might weary:
Enough to say, there's none but me
To welcome Caoch O'Leary."
"Vo, vo, vo!" the old man cried,
And wrung his hands in sorrow;
"Pray lead me in, astore machree,
And I'll go home to-morrow.
My peace is made, I'll calmly leave
This world so cold and dreary,
And you shall keep my pipes and dog,