An' the hangman gets up with the rope in his hand;
An' the priest, havin' blest him, goes down on the ground,
An' Shamus O'Brien throws one last look round.
Then the hangman dhrew near, an' the people grew still,
Young faces turned sickly, and warm hearts turn chill;
An' the rope bin' ready, his neck was made bare,
For the gripe iv the life-strangling chord to prepare;
An' the good priest has left him, havin' said his last prayer,
But the good priest done more, for his hands he unbound,
And with one daring spring Jim has leaped on the ground;