With such a peculiar and rollicking air,
That I’d venture to swear
Not a girl in Kildare,
Nor Victoria’s self, if she chanced to be there,
Could resist his wild way—called “Devil may care.”
Not a boy in the parish could match him for fun,
Nor wrestle, nor leap, nor hurl, nor run
With Jemmy—no gorsoon could equal him—none,
At wake or at wedding, at feast or at fight,
At throwing the sledge with such dext’rous sleight,—