| wail of evoker, healing music, ay, and heart in hand of Sham- | 1 |
| rogueshire! The googoos of the suckabolly in the rockabeddy are | 2 |
| become the copiosity of wiseableness of the friarylayman in the | 3 |
| pulpitbarrel. May your bawny hair grow rarer and fairer, our own | 4 |
| only wideheaded boy! Rest your voice! Feed your mind! Mint | 5 |
| your peas! Coax your qyous! Come to disdoon blarmey and | 6 |
| walk our groves so charming and see again the sweet rockelose | 7 |
| where first you hymned O Ciesa Mea! and touch the light the- | 8 |
| orbo! Songster, angler, choreographer! Piper to prisoned! Musi- | 9 |
| cianship made Embrassador-at-Large! Good by nature and | 10 |
| natural by design, had you but been spared to us, Hauneen lad, | 11 |
| but sure where's the use my talking quicker when I know you'll | 12 |
| hear me all astray? My long farewell I send to you, fair dream of | 13 |
| sport and game and always something new. Gone is Haun! My | 14 |
| grief, my ruin! Our Joss-el-Jovan! Our Chris-na-Murty! 'Tis well | 15 |
| you'll be looked after from last to first as yon beam of light we | 16 |
| follow receding on your photophoric pilgrimage to your anti- | 17 |
| podes in the past, you who so often consigned your distributory | 18 |
| tidings of great joy into our nevertoolatetolove box, mansuetudi- | 19 |
| nous manipulator, victimisedly victorihoarse, dearest Haun of | 20 |
| all, you of the boots, true as adie, stepwalker, pennyatimer, | 21 |
| lampaddyfair, postanulengro, our rommanychiel! Thy now pal- | 22 |
| ing light lucerne we ne'er may see again. But could it speak how | 23 |
| nicely would it splutter to the four cantons praises be to thee, | 24 |
our pattern sent! For you had may I, in our, your and their | 25 |
names, dare to say it? the nucleus of a glow of a zeal of soul | 26 |
| of service such as rarely, if ever, have I met with single men. | 27 |
| Numerous are those who, nay, there are a dozen of folks still | 28 |
| unclaimed by the death angel in this country of ours today, | 29 |
| humble indivisibles in this grand continuum, overlorded by fate | 30 |
| and interlarded with accidence, who, while there are hours and | 31 |
| days, will fervently pray to the spirit above that they may never | 32 |
| depart this earth of theirs till in his long run from that place | 33 |
| where the day begins, ere he retourneys postexilic, on that day | 34 |
| that belongs to joyful Ireland, the people that is of all time, the | 35 |
| old old oldest, the young young youngest, after decades of | 36 |