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. i{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. i{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.' i{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. i{How goes the weather.?}