Before the rising gale,"
Thin from a bog oak, three-legg'd stool,
He took the sun, with a two foot rule,
An' round the world, went Pat O'Toole,
An' all his fleet of sail!
'Twas on St. Swithin's day, the wet began, an' rained for forty days,
An' forty nights, it blundhered out the thunder, lift an' right,
Whin like a merricle it stopped, the sun came out, said Pat O'Toole,