 | The poetical works of John Godfrey Saxe |  |
PADDY'S ODE TO THE PRINCE.
O mighty Prince!
It's no offense,
Your worship, that I mane ye,
While I confiss
'T was ra-al bliss,
A moment to have sane ye!
It's no offense,
Your worship, that I mane ye,
While I confiss
'T was ra-al bliss,
A moment to have sane ye!
That you should see
The likes o' me,
The while I stud adjacent,
I don't suppose,
Although me clo'es
Was mighty clane and dacent.
The likes o' me,
The while I stud adjacent,
I don't suppose,
Although me clo'es
Was mighty clane and dacent.
Av coorse, ye know
'T was long ago,
I looked at Jukes and such men,
And longer since,
And English Prince
Begotten by a Dutchman!
'T was long ago,
I looked at Jukes and such men,
And longer since,
And English Prince
Begotten by a Dutchman!
But by me troth,
And Bible-oath!
Wid all me Irish shyness,
I've passed the word
Wid many a lord,
Much taller than your Highness!
And Bible-oath!
Wid all me Irish shyness,
I've passed the word
Wid many a lord,
Much taller than your Highness!
Ah! well,—bedad,
No doubt ye had,
In token of allagiance,
As good a cup
As ye could sup
Among thim black Canajans;
No doubt ye had,
In token of allagiance,
As good a cup
As ye could sup
Among thim black Canajans;
But wha'd 'ye think
Of Christian dhrink,
Now tell me that, me tulip!
When through a sthraw
Your Highness saw,
The flavor of a julep?
Of Christian dhrink,
Now tell me that, me tulip!
When through a sthraw
Your Highness saw,
The flavor of a julep?
Thim haythen chaps,
The nayger Japs,
Wid all their curst expinses,
Just tuk their fill,
And left a bill
At which the paple winces;
The nayger Japs,
Wid all their curst expinses,
Just tuk their fill,
And left a bill
At which the paple winces;
But thin, no doubt,
Ye'll ride about
Wid Boole and all the Aldermen
They 've little sinse,
But, for expinse,
There 's not a set of boulder men!
Ye'll ride about
Wid Boole and all the Aldermen
They 've little sinse,
But, for expinse,
There 's not a set of boulder men!
Fernandy Wud
Has dacent blood,
And illigant morality;
And ye may swear
Our mighty Mayor
Will show his horsepitality!
Has dacent blood,
And illigant morality;
And ye may swear
Our mighty Mayor
Will show his horsepitality!
81
The soldiers all
Are at his call,
Wid Captains to parade 'em;
And at the laste,
Ye'll get a taste
Of dimmecratic fraydem.
Are at his call,
Wid Captains to parade 'em;
And at the laste,
Ye'll get a taste
Of dimmecratic fraydem.
But plase to note,
Ye 're not to vote,—
A privilege, by Jabers!
Ye could n't hope,
Were ye the Pope,
Until ye've got the papers!
Ye 're not to vote,—
A privilege, by Jabers!
Ye could n't hope,
Were ye the Pope,
Until ye've got the papers!
Well, mighty Prince,
Accept these hints;
Most frayly I indite 'em;
'T is luck, indade,
If ye can rade
As aisy as I write 'em!
Accept these hints;
Most frayly I indite 'em;
'T is luck, indade,
If ye can rade
As aisy as I write 'em!
And when the throne
Is all ye'r own
At which ye 're daily steerin',
Remimber what
Some kings forgot,—
Remimber poor ould Erin.
Is all ye'r own
At which ye 're daily steerin',
Remimber what
Some kings forgot,—
Remimber poor ould Erin.
| The poetical works of John Godfrey Saxe | |