Bailie Nicol Jarvie's journey to Aberfoil/St. Patrick was a gentleman

ST.PATRICK WAS A GENTLEMAN.

St Patrick was a gentleman, and came (illegible text) people.
He built a church in Dublin town, and upon it put a steeple:
His mother was a Callaghan, his father was a Brady,
His sister was an O'Huolihan, and his brother an O'Grady.
Then success to bold Saint Patrick's fist,
He was a saint so clever,
He gave the frogs and toads a twist,
And banished them for ever.
There's not a mile on Ireland's isle, where the dirty varment musters,
Where'er he put his dear forefoot, he murdered them in clusters:
The frogs went hop, the toads went plop, slapdash into the water,
The bastes committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter.
Then success, &c.
Nine hundered thousand vipers blue, he charmed with sweet discourses,
And dined on them at Killaloo in soups and second courses;
The blind worm crawling through the grase, disgusted all the nation,—
He gave them a rise, and he opened their eyes to the sense of their situation.
Then success, &c. The Wicklow hills are very high, and so's the hill o' Howth, Sir;
But there's a hill that's higher still, yes higher then them both, Sir:—
'Twas on the top of this high hill St. Patrick preached the sarment
That drove the frogs into the bogs, and boddered all the varment.
Then success, &c.

No wonder that we Irish boys should be so gay and frisky,
St. Patrick first taught us the joys of tippling the whisky.
Twas he that brewed the best o' malt and understood distilling,
For his mother kept a sheeban shop in the town of Inniskillen.
Then success, &c.

Then should I be so fortunate as to go back to Munster,
Och! I'll be bound that from that ground again I ne'er would once stir
'Twas there St. Patrick 'anted turf, and plenty of the praties,
With pigs galore, a grah m'estore, and butter-milk, and ladies.
Then success, &c.