Now, SHAMUS, look back on the beautiful moon, For the door of the prison must close on you soon, An' take your last look at her dim lovely light, That falls on the mountain and valley this night; One look at the village, one look at the flood, An' one at the sheltering, far distant wood; Farewell to the forest, farewell to the hill, An' farewell to the friends that will think of you still; Farewell to the pathern, the hurlin' an' wake, And farewell to the girl that would die for your sake, An' twelve sodgers brought him to Maryborough jail, An' the turnkey resaved him, refusin' all bail; The fleet limbs wor chained, an' the sthrong hands wor bound, An' he laid down his length on the cowld prison-ground, An' the dreams of his childhood kem over him there As gentle an' soft as the sweet summer air, An' happy remembrances crowding on ever, As fast as the foam-flakes dhrift down on the river, Bringing fresh to his heart merry days long gone by, Till the tears gathered heavy and thick in his eye. But the tears didn't fall, for the pride of his heart Would not suffer one drop down his pale cheek to start; An' he sprang to his feet in the dark prison cave, An' he swore with the fierceness that misery gave, By the hopes of the good, an' the cause of the brave, That when he was mouldering in the cold grave His enemies never should have it to boast His scorn of their vengeance one moment was lost; His bosom might bleed, but his cheek should be dhry, For undaunted he lived, and undaunted he'd die. Well, as soon as a few weeks was over and gone, The terrible day iv the thrial kem on, There was sich a crowd there was scarce room to stand, An' sodgers on guard, an' dhragoons sword-in-hand; An' the court-house so full that the people were bothered, An' attorneys an' criers on the point iv bein' smothered; An' counsellors almost gev over for dead, An' the jury sittin' up in their box overhead; An' the judge settled out so detarmined an' big, With his gown on his back, and an illegant new wig; An' silence was called, an' the minute it was said The court was as still as the heart of the dead, An' they heard but the openin' of one prison lock, An' SHAMUS O'BRIEN kem into the dock. For one minute he turned his eye round on the throng, An' he looked at the bars, so firm and so strong, An' he saw that he had not a hope nor a friend, A chance to escape, nor a word to defend; An' he folded his arms as he stood there alone, As calm and as cold as a statue of stone; And they read a big writin', a yard long at laste, An' JIM didn't understand it, nor mind it a taste, An' the judge took a big pinch iv snuff, and he says, "Are you guilty or not, JIM O'BRIEN, av you plase?"