Oh, then tell me, Jane McCassidy,
Say why you hurry so?
Hus allay allay me boyo,
And her cheeks were bright aglow.
We must dance the dance of bosons
Dance with grace and with aplomb!For the minds will meld forever,
At the Rising of the Mom!!

At the rising of the Mom
At the rising of the Mom;
Give pure BS to the faithful,
At the rising of the Mom.

Ah then tell me, Jane Mccassidy,
Where the triumph ball will be?
In the River of Forever,
By the K of Twenty-three!
With the furbelows forgotten,
And the Bay Street clean and calm,
We will grift the Light Fantastic
At the Rising of the Mom.

At the rising of the Mom
At the rising of the Mom;
Grifting down the Dallah Lily,
At the rising of the Mom.

Ah, in every quiet household,
By the shining of the screens,
Something surely odd was coming,
As the world had never seen!
It was BS in confluence,
At the Rising of the Mom!!

At the rising of the Mom
At the rising of the Mom;
We were combing out the gloaming,
At the rising of the Mom.

Padraic Seamus O'Rhonnerus
Bleary Constellations of Irish Thought
Cormick, Gieus, Aquiddeh, Fergaghn, Todah, pub.
Dublin, 1867