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4o8 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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Then the clergy came in with his book,
He spoke him so smooth and so civil; Larry tipped him a Kilmainham look,
And pitched his big wig to the devil; Then sighing, he threw back his head
To get a sweet drop of the bottle, And pitiful sighing, he said :
" Oh, the hemp will be soon round my throttle And choke my poor windpipe to death.
" Though sure it's the best way to die,
Oh, the devil a betther a-livin' ! For, sure, when the gallows is high
Your journey is shorter to Heaven : But what harasses Larry the most,
And makes his poor soul melancholy, Is to think of the time when his ghost
Will come in a sheet to sweet Molly— Oh, sure it will kill her alive!''
So moving these last words he spoke,
We all vented our tears in a shower; For my part, I thought my heart broke,
To see him cut down like a flower, On his travels we watched him next day;
Oh, the throttler ! I thought I could kill him; But Larry not one word did say,
Nor changed till he come to " King William"— Then, tnusha ! his color grew white.
When he came to the nubbling chit,
He was tucked up so neat and so pretty, The rumbler jogged off from his feet, |
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