Saint Patrick was a gentleman, he came from decent people, In Dublin town he built a church and on it put a steeple His father was a Callahan, his mother was a Grady, His aunt was O'Shaughnessy and uncle he was Brady Success to bold Saint Patrick's fist, He was a Saint so clever, He gave the snakes an awful twist And banished them forever There's not a smile in Ireland's isle where the dirty vermin musters Where'er he put his dear forefoot he murder'd them in clusters The toads went hop, the frogs went plop, slap dash into the water And the beasts committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter Nine hundred thousand vipers blue he charm'd with sweet discourses And dined on them at k**aloo an' in the second courses When blind worms crawling on the gra** disgusted all the nation He gave them a rise and open'd their eyes to a sense of their situation The Wicklow hills are very high and so's the hill of Howth, sir But there's a hill much higher still, Ay, higher then them both, sir And it was on the top of his hill, Saint Patrick preach'd the "Sarmint" That drove the frogs into the bogs and bothered all the "varmint"