The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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FAREWELL TO KILLEIGH. |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
232
FAREWELL TO KILLEIGH.
At last, while you've been heedless
napping,
Egad, I'm ready just for hopping:
There's neither staying now nor stopping,
But dash away;
Perchance your bard no more may drop in,
To make you gay.
Egad, I'm ready just for hopping:
There's neither staying now nor stopping,
But dash away;
Perchance your bard no more may drop in,
To make you gay.
Howe'er, I hope you'll place my head
Upon a column white and red:
Record the witty things I said,
And con each joke:
You will, I wot, be so well-bred,
My hearts of oak.
Upon a column white and red:
Record the witty things I said,
And con each joke:
You will, I wot, be so well-bred,
My hearts of oak.
Oft in the dear lost school convene,
Smoke deep your funny gab between;
While honest John, in doleful teen,
Sighs out my name:
Boys, I must alter now the scene
And climb to fame.
Smoke deep your funny gab between;
While honest John, in doleful teen,
Sighs out my name:
Boys, I must alter now the scene
And climb to fame.
233
If to old Lory's you repair,
To tipple off the fortnight's care,
Still Tom shall steal upon you there,
And prompt each wish;
Tom, that would smoke like a lord may'r,
Drink like a fish.
To tipple off the fortnight's care,
Still Tom shall steal upon you there,
And prompt each wish;
Tom, that would smoke like a lord may'r,
Drink like a fish.
When Shakspeare fills each pate so fine,
And Dick repeats the pompous line,
You'll mouth once more my verse divine;
My slipshod muse
Shall make the ale as strong as wine,
And sweets infuse.
And Dick repeats the pompous line,
You'll mouth once more my verse divine;
My slipshod muse
Shall make the ale as strong as wine,
And sweets infuse.
How often have we met the moon
With vapours bland, and pipe in tune,
Ready with Ariel to commune,
Or Caliban:
Not caring half a taylor's croon
For dev'l or man!
With vapours bland, and pipe in tune,
Ready with Ariel to commune,
Or Caliban:
Not caring half a taylor's croon
For dev'l or man!
No more shall I so deeply muse
O'er pamphlet bare, or dusty news;
No more antiquities peruse
With craving eye:
Good lack! no more destroy my shoes,
Cap'ring for joy.
O'er pamphlet bare, or dusty news;
No more antiquities peruse
With craving eye:
Good lack! no more destroy my shoes,
Cap'ring for joy.
234
No more love-sonnets sweetly sing,
To Hudibrastics chime the string,
Or elegies right baleful bring
For Davie dead:
Alas! 'tis quite another thing:
All frolic's fled.
To Hudibrastics chime the string,
Or elegies right baleful bring
For Davie dead:
Alas! 'tis quite another thing:
All frolic's fled.
But friendship still shall fresh remain;
And when I'm o'er the envious main,
Tell all my old tricks o'er again
With smiling glee:
“Heav'ns!” will ye cry in ranting strain,
Who'll equal thee?
And when I'm o'er the envious main,
Tell all my old tricks o'er again
With smiling glee:
“Heav'ns!” will ye cry in ranting strain,
Who'll equal thee?
‘Killeigh is now, alack! deserted:
Her once-lov'd poet's quite departed;
Full cruel wert thou and hard-hearted
To serve her so.’
Partners of all my life, though parted,
My soul's with you.
Her once-lov'd poet's quite departed;
Full cruel wert thou and hard-hearted
To serve her so.’
Partners of all my life, though parted,
My soul's with you.
Though riches fill my chest, though Glory
Swell up my heart, I'm no such tory
To gain up all those things before ye,
Nor lend a mite;
Whate'er I be, 'tis the old story,
And all is right.
Swell up my heart, I'm no such tory
To gain up all those things before ye,
Nor lend a mite;
Whate'er I be, 'tis the old story,
And all is right.
235
Should I in future years be able
To take an arm-chair at your table,
Then you wont think this boast a fable,
But good stout reason:
You'll find me, though but poor, right stable;
Ne'er out of season.
To take an arm-chair at your table,
Then you wont think this boast a fable,
But good stout reason:
You'll find me, though but poor, right stable;
Ne'er out of season.
And now God's luck to this fair meeting!
And may we have another greeting;
When bairns and wives, the tribe completing,
Shall hug each other:
While I, of noble actions treating,
Hail each a brother!
And may we have another greeting;
When bairns and wives, the tribe completing,
Shall hug each other:
While I, of noble actions treating,
Hail each a brother!
| The Harp of Erin | |