Thus did they trip it for a goodly hour;
When, oh! what charm there is in music's pow'r!
Old Joyce the piper seizes a short stay
To change his pipes:—and, what's the merry lay
They now lilt up?—'The Priest in his Boots,' and lo!
(Whether 'twas all concerted I don't know,)
Fat Widow Higgins, 'midst the general shout,
By Father Martin is led waddling out!
Oh! how they tramp'd and stamp'd, and flounc'd and bounc'd!
A mercy 'twas they trod on the ground-floor,