| Palmwine breadfruit sweetmeat milksoup! Suasusopo! However! | 1 |
| Our people here in Somoanesia will not be forgetting you | 2 |
| and the elders luking and marking the jornies, chalking up drizzle | 3 |
| in drizzle out on the four bare mats. How you would be thinking | 4 |
| in thoughts how deepings did it all begin and how you | 5 |
| would be scrimmaging through your scruples to collar a hold of | 6 |
| an imperfection being committled. Sireland calls you. Mery Loye | 7 |
| is saling moonlike. And Slyly mamourneen's ladymaid at Glads- | 6 |
| house Lodge. Turn your coat, strong character, and tarry among | 9 |
| us down the vale, yougander, only once more! And may the mosse | 10 |
| of prosperousness gather you rolling home! May foggy dews be- | 11 |
| diamondise your hooprings! May the fireplug of filiality reinsure | 12 |
| your bunghole! May the barleywind behind glow luck to your | 13 |
| bathershins! 'Tis well we know you were loth to leave us, | 14 |
| winding your hobbledehorn, right royal post, but, aruah sure, | 15 |
| pulse of our slumber, dreambookpage, by the grace of Votre | 16 |
| Dame, when the natural morning of your nocturne blankmerges | 17 |
| into the national morning of golden sunup and Don Leary gets | 18 |
| his own back from old grog Georges Quartos as that goodship the | 19 |
| Jonnyjoys takes the wind from waterloogged Erin's king, you | 20 |
| will shiff across the Moylendsea and round up in your own | 21 |
| escapology some canonisator's day or other, sack on back, alack! | 22 |
| digging snow, (not so?) like the good man you are, with your | 23 |
| picture pockets turned knockside out in the rake of the rain for | 24 |
| fresh remittances and from that till this in any case, timus tenant, | 25 |
| may the tussocks grow quickly under your trampthickets and | 26 |
| the daisies trip lightly over your battercops. | 27 |