The Unsainting Of Kavin.

Saint Kavin was a gentleman,     He came from Tipperary;     And woman was the only thing     That ever made him scary.     For Kavin was a tender youth,     And he was very simple;     He feared the wiles of maiden smiles,     And fainted at a dimple.     But when Kathleen at seventeen     Came down the street one morning,     The luck of man came over him     And took him without warning.     Afraid to meet a foolish fate     By green sea or by dry land,     He fled away without delay     And sought a desert island.     But even there he felt despair;     For happiness is only     The hope of doing something else;     And he was very lonely.     He vowed to lead a life of prayer     Because that he had lost her;     And every time he thought of her     He said a Pater noster.     Yet hard it is for man to change     The less love for the greater;     And every time he reached Amen,     He must go back to Pater.     And so he grew a year or two     Disconsolate and holy,     While friends he'd known long since had grown     Papas and roly-poly.     Until one day, one blessed day,     A-moping like a Hindoo,     He saw Kathleen in mournful mien     A-passing by his window.     He threw away his rosary,     His Paters and his Aves;     For love is stronger than the wind     That wafts a thousand navies.     The holy man went forth to war,     But not against the devil.     He led the maid within for shade,     And treated her most civil.     He gave her cakes, he gave her wine,     He set his best before her;     And then invited her to dine--     Thenceforth--with her adorer.     Her little head went round for joy;     She tried to kick the rafter:     So Kavin was a saint no more,     And happy ever after.