The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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A DREAM OF HINDOSTAN. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
71
A DREAM OF HINDOSTAN.
------ risum teneatis, amici.
“The longer one lives, the more one learns,
Said I, as off to sleep I went,
Bemus'd with thinking of Tithe concerns,
And reading a book, by the Bishop of Ferns ,
On the Irish Church Establishment.
But, lo, in sleep, not long I lay,
When Fancy her usual tricks began,
And I found myself bewitch'd away
To a goodly city in Hindostan—
A city, where he, who dares to dine
On aught but rice, is deem'd a sinner;
Where sheep and kine are held divine,
And, accordingly—never drest for dinner.
Said I, as off to sleep I went,
Bemus'd with thinking of Tithe concerns,
And reading a book, by the Bishop of Ferns ,
On the Irish Church Establishment.
But, lo, in sleep, not long I lay,
When Fancy her usual tricks began,
And I found myself bewitch'd away
To a goodly city in Hindostan—
A city, where he, who dares to dine
On aught but rice, is deem'd a sinner;
Where sheep and kine are held divine,
And, accordingly—never drest for dinner.
“But how is this?” I wondering cried—
As I walk'd that city, fair and wide,
And saw, in every marble street,
A row of beautiful butchers' shops—
“What means, for men who don't eat meat,
“This grand display of loins and chops?”
In vain I ask'd—'twas plain to see
That nobody dar'd to answer me.
As I walk'd that city, fair and wide,
72
A row of beautiful butchers' shops—
“What means, for men who don't eat meat,
“This grand display of loins and chops?”
In vain I ask'd—'twas plain to see
That nobody dar'd to answer me.
So, on, from street to street I strode;
And you can't conceive how vastly odd
The butchers look'd—a roseate crew,
Inshrin'd in stalls, with nought to do;
While some on a bench, half dozing, sat,
And the Sacred Cows were not more fat.
And you can't conceive how vastly odd
The butchers look'd—a roseate crew,
Inshrin'd in stalls, with nought to do;
While some on a bench, half dozing, sat,
And the Sacred Cows were not more fat.
Still pos'd to think, what all this scene
Of sinecure trade was meant to mean,
“And, pray,” ask'd I—“by whom is paid
The expense of this strange masquerade?”—
“The' expense!—oh, that's of course defray'd
(Said one of these well-fed Hecatombers)
“By yonder rascally rice-consumers.”
“What! they, who mustn't eat meat!”—
“No matter—
(And, while he spoke, his cheeks grew fatter,)
“The rogues may munch their Paddy crop,
“But the rogues must still support our shop.
“And, depend upon it, the way to treat
“Heretical stomachs that thus dissent,
“Is to burden all that wo'n't eat meat,
“With a costly Meat Establishment.”
Of sinecure trade was meant to mean,
“And, pray,” ask'd I—“by whom is paid
The expense of this strange masquerade?”—
“The' expense!—oh, that's of course defray'd
(Said one of these well-fed Hecatombers)
“By yonder rascally rice-consumers.”
“What! they, who mustn't eat meat!”—
“No matter—
(And, while he spoke, his cheeks grew fatter,)
73
“But the rogues must still support our shop.
“And, depend upon it, the way to treat
“Heretical stomachs that thus dissent,
“Is to burden all that wo'n't eat meat,
“With a costly Meat Establishment.”
On hearing these words so gravely said,
With a volley of laughter loud I shook;
And my slumber fled, and my dream was sped,
And I found I was lying snug in bed,
With my nose in the Bishop of Ferns' book.
With a volley of laughter loud I shook;
And my slumber fled, and my dream was sped,
And I found I was lying snug in bed,
With my nose in the Bishop of Ferns' book.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |