Friend of Ireland:—
"Wordy Knife-Grinder! Whither are you going?
Dark is your way—your wheel looks out of order—
Mitchelstown palls, and there seems no more spell in
O'BRIEN's breeches!
"Wordy Knife-Grinder, little think the proud ones,
Who in their speeches prate about their Union-
Ism, what hard work 'tis to keep a Party
Tightly together!