 | Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn |  |
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Inishowen.
I
I care not a fig for a flagon of flip,Or a whistling can of rumbo;
But my tongue through whisky punch will slip
As nimble as Hurlothrumbo.
So put the spirits on the board,
And give the lemons a squeezer,
And we'll mix a jorum, by the Lord!
That will make your worship sneeze, sir.
II
The French, no doubt, are famous souls,I love them for their brandy;
In rum and sweet tobacco rolls,
Jamaica men are handy.
The big-breech'd Dutch in juniper gin,
I own, are very knowing;
But are rum, gin, brandy, worth a pin,
Compared with Inishowen?
III
Though here with a Lord, 'tis jolly and fine,To tumble down Lacryma Christi,
And over a skin of Italy's wine
To get a little misty;
Yet not the blood of the Bourdeaux grape,
The finest grape-juice going,
Nor clammy Constantia, the pride of the Cape,
Prefer I to Inishowen.
| Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn | |