This page has been validated.
(8)
If he meet his Shelela,
Who frowning a smile,
Cries, Get you gone Pat,
Yet consents all the while;
To Church they soon go,
And nine months after that,
And nine months after that,
A young baby cries,
How do you ⟨do⟩ father Pat,
With your Sprig, &c.
Success to the land that gave Patrick his birth,
To the land of the oak,
And its neighbouring earth,
With a Sprig, &c.
May the sons of the Thames,
Tweed, and the Shannon,
Thresh the foes, that would plant
On our confines a ⟨cannon⟩;
⟨United⟩ and happy in Liberty's shrine,
May the ⟨Rose⟩ and the Thistle
Long ⟨flourish⟩ and twine,
While Pat holds his Shelela
And Shamrock so Green.
FINIS.
