Verses by John Frederick Bryant late tobacco-pipe maker at Bristol. Together with his life, written by himself |
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The KING of HANGING WOOD:
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 | Verses by John Frederick Bryant |  |
The KING of HANGING WOOD:
OR, THE FORTUNE of an IRISH LABOURER, Who was caught with one of the Women that infest Hanging Wood, near Woolwich; whose acknowledged Superiority in fighting had obtained her the Title of Queen of the Wood. Written by Desire of Mr. M---, Foreman of the Bricklayers with whom the Labourer worked.
From Ireland came a hearty Boy,Jack Donakin by name:
Ahoo! he was as dear a joy
As ever shone in fame.
In Ireland Jack for bread fed hogs,
'Till he his country flew;
But ah! he left his native bogs
With noble aims in view:
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As he himself reports,
He to a wizard blind and old
Expos'd his moles and warts;
He learn'd on one auspicious wart
To plume ambition's wing;
“For lo!” said he, “thou'lt shine at court,
“And live to be a king:
“And Britain's island is the place,
“Boy! think it not a notion,
“Where thou shalt bear the pond'rous mace,
“And climb to such promotion.”
Ah! Gramachree, he cried, for joy,
I'll make no more delay;
So then set off this hearty boy,
And left his debts to pay.
Long has he borne the promis'd mace ,
And long has been a-climbing ,
And oft the court has seen his face,
As sure as I'm a-rhiming.
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Of amorous Hanging Wood,
Th'ambitious rip has made (I ween)
The grand prediction good.
And may his royal fortune smile
'Till fate in hemp arrays him,
And in a proper kingly style
To his last court conveys him:
For, certain as he first drew breath
In that dear isle Hibernia,
The rogue will live to catch his death
At that place call'd Tyburnia.
| Verses by John Frederick Bryant | |