They'll all be smashed up in a minute,
Scarce one can escape.
Now, Morley, my boy, and brave Parnell,
I'll lay it; just follow my hand.
That plain will soon look like a charnel,
With all that remains of their band;
The "fragments of him called McCarty"
(Referred to, I think, in the song)
Were huge chunks to the scraps that their Party
Will show before long.