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University of Virginia Library

Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn

edited by Dr. Shelton Mackenzie

Maginn, William (1793-1842)

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I.

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[MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY]

[If a lover, sweet creature, should foolishly seek]

[Ah, 'tis a weary night! Alas, will sleep]

[Oh, lady, in the laughing hours]

[Captain Godolphin was a very odd and stingy man]

[Great king of the ocean, transcendent and grand]

[“Confusion seize your lowsy sowl, ye nasty dirty varment]

[Have you sailed on the breast of the deep]

[Come, push round the bottle; one glass ere we part]

[Let Dandies to M'Culloch go]

[While worldly men through stupid years]

[O hone, Odoherty!]

[When wondering ages shall have rolled away]

ELEGY WRITTEN IN A BALL-ROOM.

[There was a time when every sort of people]

[I rose this morning about half past nine]

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II.

THE ENGLISH SAILOR AND THE KING OF ACHEN'S DAUGHTER.

TO THE CHILD OF CORINNA!

[“The ‘Whig,’ the lover, and the poet]

[“Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea]

INCONSTANCY; A SONG TO MRS. M'WHIRTER.

CHANT.—BY MRS. M'WHIRTER.

ODOHERTY'S GARLAND.

THE EVE OF ST. JERRY.

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THE RIME OF THE AUNCIENT WAGGONERE.

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2.

3.

4.

Maxims of ODoherty.

DON JUAN UNREAD.

The Irishman and the Lady.

Here Let me Dine.

[Oh! lovely Polly Savage]

THE SOMNAMBULATORY BUTCHER.—An Episode.

AILIE MUSHAT'S CAIRN.

ODE ON THE DEATH OF YAHMASSEERO, COUNCILLOR OF STATE.

[The hounds in the kennel are yelling loud]

FRAGMENT OF A VISION.

[Oh! mortal man, how varied is thy lot]

[Theyre wals ane Brounie offe mucle faime]

There's not a Ioy that Life can give, &c.

'Tis in vain to complain.

Chanson a Boire.

Song of a Fallen Angel over a Bowl of Rum-Punch.

[“Let us drink and be merry]

An Hundred Years Hence.

A Dozen Years Hence.

The Pewter Quart.

The Leather Bottle.

[Now, what do you say to the canns of wood?]

[Now for the pots with handles three]

[Now what of the flagons of silver fine?]

[Of tilting furniture, emblazoned shields]

[Now, what do you say to these glasses fine?]

[Now when this bottle is grown old]

['Tis a pitiful thing, that now-a-days, sirs]

[And now I will begin to declare]

[And therefore leave your twittle twattle]

[Be your liquor small, or thick as mud]

[No flagon, tankard, bottle, or iug]

[Socrates and Aristotle]

[Besides, my good friend, let me tell you, that fellow]

[Your leathèr bottle is used by no man]

An Idyl on the Battle.

LAMENT OF A BIG BRISTOL BUTCHER.

A Twist-imony in Favour of Gin-Twist.

Cork is the Aiden for you, love, and me.

BALLAD ON THE DEATH OF SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER, AT THE BATTLE OF EVERSHAM, 1226.

Lament for Lord Byron.

Odoherty's Dirge

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V.

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19

[“Confusion seize your lowsy sowl, ye nasty dirty varment]

“Confusion seize your lowsy sowl, ye nasty dirty varment,
Ye goes your ways, and leaves me here without the least preferment;
When you've drunk my gin, and robbed my till, and stolen all my pelf, ye
Sail away, and think no more on your wife at Philadelphy.”