Young Canice was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of wagon wheels spun in his head,
Attracta in her ‘kerchief, and Bernie in her cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long nighttime’s nap.

When on the estate there arose such a clatter,
Brendans jumped from their beds to see what was the matter,
Away to his window Mick flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the carpet of new-fallen blossoms
Gave the lustre of mid-day to somebody’s bottoms.
And what to Harro’s wondering eyes should appear,
Than a sleep-cycling chairman, modelling his gear.

A little Colnago, so lively and quick,
All thought for a moment it must be some trick.
More rapid than eagles his chasers they came,
But he whistled and shouted and called them by name!