Part 29 (1/2)
”Three 'undred thousand sn.o.bs Came out to stop the vay, Vith sticks vith iron k.n.o.bs, Or else we'd gained the day.
The harmy quite kept out of sight, And so ve vent avay.
”Next day the Pleacemen came-- Rewenge it was their plann-- And from my good old dame They took her tailor-mann: And the hard hard beak did me bespeak To Newgit in the Wann.
”In that etrocious Cort The Jewry did agree; The Judge did me transport, To go beyond the sea: And so for life, from his dear wife They took poor old Cuffee.
”O Halbert, Appy Prince!
With children round your knees, Ingraving ansum Prints, And taking hoff your hease; O think of me, the old Cuffee, Beyond the solt solt seas!
”Although I'm hold and black, My hanguish is most great; Great Prince, O call me back, And I vill be your Vait!
And never no more vill break the Lor, As I did in 'Forty-eight.”
The tailer thus did close (A pore old blackymore rogue), When a dismal gent uprose, And spoke with Hirish brogue: ”I'm Smith O'Brine, of Royal Line, Descended from Rory Ogue.
”When great O'Connle died, That man whom all did trust, That man whom Henglish pride Beheld with such disgust, Then Erin free fixed eyes on me, And swoar I should be fust.
”'The glorious Hirish Crown,'
Says she, 'it shall be thine: Long time, it's wery well known, You kep it in your line; That diadem of hemerald gem Is yours, my Smith O'Brine.
”'Too long the Saxon churl Our land enc.u.mbered hath; Arise my Prince, my Earl, And brush them from thy path: Rise, mighty Smith, and sveep 'em vith The besom of your wrath.'
”Then in my might I rose, My country I surveyed, I saw it filled with foes, I viewed them undismayed; 'Ha, ha!' says I, 'the harvest's high, I'll reap it with my blade.'
”My warriors I enrolled, They rallied round their lord; And cheafs in council old I summoned to the board-- Wise Doheny and Duffy bold, And Meagher of the Sword.
”I stood on Slievenamaun, They came with pikes and bills; They gathered in the dawn, Like mist upon the hills, And rushed adown the mountain side Like twenty thousand rills.
”Their fortress we a.s.sail; Hurroo! my boys, hurroo!
The b.l.o.o.d.y Saxons quail To hear the wild Shaloo: Strike, and prevail, proud Innesfail, O'Brine aboo, aboo!
”Our people they defied; They shot at 'em like savages, Their b.l.o.o.d.y guns they plied With sanguinary ravages: Hide, blus.h.i.+ng Glory, hide That day among the cabbages!
”And so no more I'll say, But ask your Mussy great.
And humbly sing and pray, Your Majesty's poor Wait: Your Smith O'Brine in 'Forty-nine Will blush for 'Forty-eight.”
LINES ON A LATE HOSPICIOUS EWENT.*
BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE FOOTGUARDS (BLUE).
I paced upon my beat With steady step and slow, All huppandownd of Ranelagh Street: Ran'lagh St. Pimlico.
While marching huppandownd Upon that fair May morn, Beold the booming cannings sound, A royal child is born!
The Ministers of State Then presnly I sor, They gallops to the Pallis gate, In carridges and for.
With anxious looks intent, Before the gate they stop, There comes the good Lord President, And there the Archbishopp.