  PADDY McCABE was dying one day, And Father Molloy he came to confess him; Paddy pray’d hard he would make no delay, But forgive him his sins and make haste for to bless him. “First tell me your sins,” says Father Molloy, “For I’m thinking you’ve not been a very good boy.” “Oh,” says Paddy, “so late in the evenin’, I fear, For you’ve ten long miles o’er the mountains to go, While the road I’ve to travel’s much longer, you know. So give us your blessin’ and get in the saddle; To tell all my sins my poor brain it would addle; And the docther gave ordhers to keep me so quiet— ’Twould disturb me to tell all my sins, if I’d thry it, And your Reverence has tould us, unless we tell all, ’Tis worse than not makin’ confession at all. So I’ll say in a word I’m no very good boy— And, therefore, your blessin’, sweet Father Molloy.” “Well, I’ll read from a book,” says Father Molloy, “The manifold sins that humanity’s heir to; And when you hear those that your conscience annoy, You’ll just squeeze my hand, as acknowledging thereto.” Then the father began the dark roll of iniquity, And Paddy, thereat, felt his conscience grow rickety, And he gave such a squeeze that the priest gave a roar. “Oh, murdher,” says Paddy, “don’t read any more, For, if you keep readin’, by all that is thrue, Your Reverence’s fist will be soon black and blue; Besides, to be throubled my conscience begins, That your Reverence should have any hand in my sins, So you’d betther suppose I committed them all, Or if they’re a dozen, or if they’re fourscore, ’Tis your Reverence knows how to absolve them, astore; So I’ll say in a word, I’m no very good boy— And, therefore, your blessin’, sweet Father Molloy.” “Well,” says Father Molloy, “if your sins I forgive, So you must forgive all your enemies truly; And promise me also that, if you should live, You’ll leave off your old tricks, and begin to live newly.” “I forgive ev’rybody,” says Pat, with a groan, “Except that big vagabone Micky Malone; And him I will murdher if ever I can—” “Tut, tut,” says the priest, “you’re a very bad man; For without your forgiveness, and also repentance, You’ll ne’er go to heaven, and that is my sentence.” “Poo!” says Paddy McCabe, “that’s a very hard case— With your Reverence and heaven I’m content to make pace; But with heaven and your Reverence I wondher—Och hone— You would think of comparin’ that blackguard Malone. But since I’m hard press’d, and that I must forgive, I forgive, if I die—but as sure as I live That ugly blackguard I will surely desthroy! So, now for your blessin’, sweet Father Molloy!” Samuel Lover. |
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