THE O'RAHILLY
 
 SING of the O'Rahilly,
 Do not deny his right;
 Sing a "the' before his name;
 Allow that he, despite
 All those learned historians,
 Established it for good;
 He wrote out that word himself,
 He christened himself with blood.
 How goes the weather?
 
 Sing of the O'Rahilly
 That had such little sense
 He told Pearse and Connolly
 He'd gone to great expense
 Keeping all the Kerry men
 Out of that crazy fight;
 That he might be there himself
 Had travelled half the night.
 How goes the weather?
 
 "Am I such a craven that
 I should not get the word
 But for what some travelling man
 Had heard I had not heard?'
 Then on pearse and Connolly
 He fixed a bitter look:
 "Because I helped to wind the clock
 I come to hear it strike.'
 How goes the weather?
 
 What remains to sing about
 But of the death he met
 Stretched under a doorway
 Somewhere off Henry Street;
 They that found him found upon
 The door above his head
 "Here died the O'Rahilly.
 R.I.P.' writ in blood.
 How goes the weather.?