There's a cup of the purest (Hibernian) gold,
Lo! how the whirlpool has sucked it in!
'Tis a crown of glory, that golden cup,
To the venturous hand that shall bear it up!"
* * * * *
They listened, that goodly Company,
And were mute both squire and knight;
For they liked not the look of that wild (Irish) sea.
And they funked a fight with that maelstrom's might,
And a Voice, for the second time, loudly spake,