 | Poems and Songs |  |
A Lay of the Twentieth Century.
Her Majesty the Queen sat sad, as many a queen has done,
And thought the world grew darker with each rising of the sun,
In spite of all the victories which the men she ruled had won.
And thought the world grew darker with each rising of the sun,
In spite of all the victories which the men she ruled had won.
She saw a fancied ship glide on o'er near and distant seas,
The ship, she thought, that used to brave the battle and the breeze,
And dance upon the wildest waves in safety and at ease.
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And dance upon the wildest waves in safety and at ease.
But she could see that Doubt stood pale and trembling at the prow,
And Hesitancy on the bridge, where Promptness ruled till now,
And saw the good old ship—a log—through threat'ning waters plow.
And Hesitancy on the bridge, where Promptness ruled till now,
And saw the good old ship—a log—through threat'ning waters plow.
Up rose Her Majesty inspired—Minerva in her eye—
“What! shall Rebellion rage unchecked, and my good ships close by?
Remove the heads? What then? Why, then, 'tis like the trunk would die.”
“What! shall Rebellion rage unchecked, and my good ships close by?
Remove the heads? What then? Why, then, 'tis like the trunk would die.”
So then she wrote a missive, and she sealed it with her seal,
And then she called a waiting lord and low she bade him kneel,
“And swear,” she said, “you nought of this to mortal will reveal.”
And then she called a waiting lord and low she bade him kneel,
“And swear,” she said, “you nought of this to mortal will reveal.”
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He strode, he rode, he trained, and sailed, until his task was done,
Till the missive from Her Majesty he gave her sailor son,
On a calm and moonlit morning, when the latest yarn was spun.
Till the missive from Her Majesty he gave her sailor son,
On a calm and moonlit morning, when the latest yarn was spun.
“Some rascals have been threat'ning old Parnell, my son,” it said,
“And Davitt and pale Dillon are, they swear, as good as dead;
Well, we would not like to have them die of bullet-in-the-head!
“And Davitt and pale Dillon are, they swear, as good as dead;
Well, we would not like to have them die of bullet-in-the-head!
“But we could send our Jupiter a-steaming anywhere,
And you could go with it, perhaps, and give them Royal fare!
But never let them roam ashore, for there is danger there.”
And you could go with it, perhaps, and give them Royal fare!
But never let them roam ashore, for there is danger there.”
The Jupiter is all alive! the fog-horns loudly bray.
The mighty paddles slowly turn; the good ship feels her way,
Till her anchor flukes are digging in the mud of Dublin Bay.
The mighty paddles slowly turn; the good ship feels her way,
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“Now haste ye, Master Steward! Take a boat and haste ashore,
And board the stores of Guinness—'tis a thing you've done before;
Get the best of stout and whisky, and of everything galore!”
And board the stores of Guinness—'tis a thing you've done before;
Get the best of stout and whisky, and of everything galore!”
And then some bold marines went off and guests brought more than one,
And when the morning mists fell down before the morning sun
They were steaming past the Tuscar, and the Dublin raid was run.
And when the morning mists fell down before the morning sun
They were steaming past the Tuscar, and the Dublin raid was run.
Now along the shore of Munster under easy steam they creep,
And search the town of Waterford while all the police sleep,
And Youghal, where old Ireland saw her first potato heap.
And search the town of Waterford while all the police sleep,
And Youghal, where old Ireland saw her first potato heap.
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And then into the Cove they dropt, and guests from Cork were brought;
And some the loyal sailors gagged, and some they only caught;
And it seemed, for once in Ireland, they could find whoe'er they sought.
And some the loyal sailors gagged, and some they only caught;
And it seemed, for once in Ireland, they could find whoe'er they sought.
Then round to Bantray Bay they steamed; and into Castletown
There came a band of sailors when the sun an hour was down,—
And they said a brace of irons round a Yankee's wrists were thrown.
There came a band of sailors when the sun an hour was down,—
And they said a brace of irons round a Yankee's wrists were thrown.
There was beautiful Kilarney! which they could not sail to see,
But they went to bring some butter and a stranger from Tralee;
And from Kilrush on Shannon the marines brought other three.
But they went to bring some butter and a stranger from Tralee;
And from Kilrush on Shannon the marines brought other three.
So round and round old Ireland, till they came to Holyhead,
And from thence the Royal sailor to his Royal mother sped:
“And where am I to take them to?” the Royal sailor said.
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“And where am I to take them to?” the Royal sailor said.
“I've got Parnell and all the O.'s—that ribald Yankee too—
(He has got his legs in irons for the way he spoke of you:
But a loyal sailor feeds him. 'Tis as much as we can do).
(He has got his legs in irons for the way he spoke of you:
But a loyal sailor feeds him. 'Tis as much as we can do).
“I've got Dillon. He's been raving; but I think we'll bring him round
(He's a splendid leech, our surgeon, as on water can be found).
But I'm not so sure of Biggar; I am afraid he must be bound.
(He's a splendid leech, our surgeon, as on water can be found).
But I'm not so sure of Biggar; I am afraid he must be bound.
“And we've got some reverend Fathers—plucky fellows! Full of fight;
They were threatening Habeas Corpus and the Pope the other night.
But a foretopman has charge of them, and they'll be snug and right.
They were threatening Habeas Corpus and the Pope the other night.
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“And a score of blackened faces that our sailors came athwart,
We've got safely under hatches, sitting very sore at heart,
For there's not an Irish agent in the ship to take their part.
We've got safely under hatches, sitting very sore at heart,
For there's not an Irish agent in the ship to take their part.
“We've got Sullivan and Sexton, and they only want to know
If we dare to take them anywhere but where they want to go;
And ‘It isn't on the sea,’ they say, ‘a martyr's blood should flow.’
If we dare to take them anywhere but where they want to go;
And ‘It isn't on the sea,’ they say, ‘a martyr's blood should flow.’
“And you say we must remember they are men? We'll do our best;
And each man's to understand he's not a pris'ner, but a guest?
And we must not call the worst of them a rascal or a pest?
And each man's to understand he's not a pris'ner, but a guest?
And we must not call the worst of them a rascal or a pest?
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“Good bye! I need not tell my Lords I'm going, I suppose.
I may write you from those waters where your lilynamesake grows.
I'll see my wife, and then we're off, ere anybody knows.”
I may write you from those waters where your lilynamesake grows.
I'll see my wife, and then we're off, ere anybody knows.”
Away they steam from Holyhead, and through the channel steer.
By Islay and the Hebrides a northward course they bear,
Till the smokeless peak of Hecla on the right stands bold and clear.
By Islay and the Hebrides a northward course they bear,
Till the smokeless peak of Hecla on the right stands bold and clear.
But while they lay off Iceland—there the Jupiter was slow—
Some guests who had been draining Irish bumpers down below,
Resolved to go above and make a patriotic show.
Some guests who had been draining Irish bumpers down below,
Resolved to go above and make a patriotic show.
Says bold Parnell, “Who's master here? And wherefore here are we?”
“Because,” replied his Grace the Prince, “you're safest out at sea;
'Tis the captain that is master, but he takes advice from me:
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'Tis the captain that is master, but he takes advice from me:
“You came on board to dine. Well! Dine; and you'll be set on shore,
But, while the cook is busy, there's an open sea before;
And a sailor likes to listen where Pacific billows roar.
But, while the cook is busy, there's an open sea before;
And a sailor likes to listen where Pacific billows roar.
“A sailor likes to listen to the voice of any sea,
And we have southern wines to get, and fruits from Carabee—
For nothing but the best is found for him that dines with me.
And we have southern wines to get, and fruits from Carabee—
For nothing but the best is found for him that dines with me.
“We are going home to Holyhead as straight as crow can fly.
There's many an nasty lump of land before us rising high,
But we're at piece with Neptune, and we'll reach it by and by.
There's many an nasty lump of land before us rising high,
But we're at piece with Neptune, and we'll reach it by and by.
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“We must not stay at Baffin's Bay nor yet in Davis' Strait;
From Labrador we'll round Cape Horn, but there we will not wait;
For we must dine at Holyhead, and must not reach it late.
From Labrador we'll round Cape Horn, but there we will not wait;
For we must dine at Holyhead, and must not reach it late.
“We will anchor off Havana till cigars are brought on board,
And a month around Jamaica, I am sure, we can afford,
And our steward will discover where the oldest rum is stored.
And a month around Jamaica, I am sure, we can afford,
And our steward will discover where the oldest rum is stored.
“It is like you fain would linger in the Caribbean Sea,
In and out among the Islands, but I fear it cannot be;
For we at Holyhead must dine some time in '83.
In and out among the Islands, but I fear it cannot be;
For we at Holyhead must dine some time in '83.
“With Neptune at the line we'll drink a bumper to the Queen;
And 'tis like the Sea God will insist on shaving some one clean;
But we must show you everything that can at sea be seen.
And 'tis like the Sea God will insist on shaving some one clean;
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“But whether we are far at sea, or where we look on land,
Remember you're a sailor's guests. The man who has command
Is the servant of Her Majesty, and will no nonsense stand.”
Remember you're a sailor's guests. The man who has command
Is the servant of Her Majesty, and will no nonsense stand.”
“Alas, for poor old Ireland, and the Land League,” cried Parnell,
“For what may be ere '83 no mortal can foretell.”
“And where's my occupation,” was the frantic Dillon's yell.
“For what may be ere '83 no mortal can foretell.”
“And where's my occupation,” was the frantic Dillon's yell.
So, after many a longing look on many a tempting shore,
The patriot-laden ship was steered to northern seas once more;
With many a toothsome thing on board, and wines—a peerless store.
The patriot-laden ship was steered to northern seas once more;
With many a toothsome thing on board, and wines—a peerless store.
A week they tossed on Biscay Bay and by the shore of France;
And soon of Cork and Waterford they had a passing glance,
As straight they steamed for Holyhead, to anchor, dine, and dance.
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As straight they steamed for Holyhead, to anchor, dine, and dance.
And then they hailed a Dublin ship, and bade them news send round,
That Dillon and Parnell, and all the lost ones, had been found,
And were not hid in Spain at all, and neither dead nor drowned.
That Dillon and Parnell, and all the lost ones, had been found,
And were not hid in Spain at all, and neither dead nor drowned.
And from the newest “Times” the Prince to all the patriots read,
How Irish farmers paid their rents, and all were fatly fed,
And how the land was jubilant because the “League” was dead.
How Irish farmers paid their rents, and all were fatly fed,
And how the land was jubilant because the “League” was dead.
And then they dined. Ye gods, what wines washed down the fish and roast!
“Old Ireland and the Queen,” they drank, and every loyal toast,
As became a band of “patriots” that knew their cause was lost.
“Old Ireland and the Queen,” they drank, and every loyal toast,
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And the matin song that from the ship arose at dawn of day,
Was a blending of The Anthem, “Garry O'wn” and “Scots, wha hae;”
And then the guests were landed, safe and sound, in Anglesey.
Was a blending of The Anthem, “Garry O'wn” and “Scots, wha hae;”
And then the guests were landed, safe and sound, in Anglesey.
But still the harp of Ireland twangs to many a mournful strain,
Of the sailor-raid in '80 and the trip across the main,
And how the leaders of the League were lost and found again.
Of the sailor-raid in '80 and the trip across the main,
And how the leaders of the League were lost and found again.
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