The crathur is young, have mercy, my lord;
He was foolish, he didn't know what he was doin';
You don't know him, my lord—O, don't give him to ruin!
He's the kindliest crathur, the tendherest-hearted;
Don't part us forever, we that's so long parted.
Judge, mavourneen, forgive him, forgive him, my lord,
An' God will forgive you—O, don't say the word!"
That was the first minute that O'Brien was shaken,
When he saw that he was not quite forgot or forsaken;
An' down his pale cheeks, at the word of his mother,