With hair like young Deaf Burke’s, all rushing up to the scratch,
You must have been divarted; and, Jewil, then he wore
A thund’ring big Taglioni-cut purple velvet roquelore.
And who but Misther Dan cut it fat in all his pride,
Cover’d over with white favors, like a gentle blushing bride;
And wasn’t he follow’d by all the blackguards for his tail,
Shouting out for their lives, ‘Success to Dan O’Connell and Rapale.’
But the Old Corporation has behaved mighty low and mane,
As they wouldn’t lend him the loan of the ancient raal goold chain,
Nor the collar; as they said they thought (divil burn ’em),