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- (continued from previous page)When the mighty great voice of O'Connell,
Pealed forth its sound logic and light And the demon of drunkeness expelled
By the great Father Matthews exploit.
Right well I remember the day
I first bashfully stood by his knee.
And a courteous sweet "Ceac Mile Faibre"
He playfully lavished on me.
Of the twenty six letters, their use and
Character he amply detailed
With the hint, that by their application,
The Summits of Fortune were gained.
Strong were his tactics and might as
The armour of light he conveyed
And matchless without an exception
Were the numerous scholars he made.
But alas! there are few of their numbers
To garnish their homesteads today
Some sleep far away over the ocean
And more sleep at home in their clay.
A man named Kelly from Strokestown fell out with the parish priest of Strokestown at(continues on next page)Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.