Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn :: :: University of Virginia Library

The coming of so great a King
Would need lore to tell on:
Madam! my tale's no common thing,
It is one to think well on.
For mighty powers it sure requires,
The Dukes and Barons, Knights and Squires,
Their grand processions and attires,
That graced that day, to dwell on.

3

But fear won't further my design,
Faint heart ne'er won fair lady,
And want of pluck's no crime of mine,
So I'll describe this gay day.—
There is a village called Dunleary,
Where all did crowd from far and near; I
Ne'er saw the like—so loud and cheery,
“God save the King!” they said aye.

4

Thither came Justices of Quorum,
To punish any rash one,
Who'd break the peace—and just before 'em
I saw Lord Talbot dash on.—
The Corporation tried to wedge in
Bellies so huge you can't imagine!
Midst men, wives, tailors, in a rage, in
Order to learn the fashion.

5

The crowd was great! in number more
Than sands upon the sea-shore!

176

So much the folks their King adore,
And love him without measure!
They came to see and know the worth
Of George the Good, of George the Fourth.
The roads were cramm'd from south to north
As full as they could be, sure.

6

Och! ye can't read the Book of Fate
While standing there so weary,
And thinking still, as it grows late,
The King must sure be near ye.
That King, whose much-desired arrival,
Would give your wearied bones revival,
Has changed his mind! Off ye may drive all,
He won't come to Dunleary.

7

There is a harbour, Howth by name,
That he'll for certain steam on;
Stewart and Fate ye have to blame,
For this which ye ne'er dream on.
But pleasure oft comes after pain,
You shall be christen'd o'er again;
When he returns, he'll not disdain
Your town his grace to beam on.

8

But now the ships began to fly
Like swallows through the sea, ma'am,
Or swim like fishes in the sky,
As swift as swift could be, ma'am.
And as they came still nigh and nigher,
Hope made our hearts beat high and higher,
And all cried out aloud, “I spy her;
That surely must be she, ma'am!”

177

9

But Murraboo! This crowd of folks
Will get a mighty take-in;
They might as well have worn their cloaks,
Their blue coats are mistaken.
Past them the fleet doth swiftly sail,
Their hopes and wishes can't prevail,
And born on wings of steam and gale.
Howth they their rest will make in.

10

Like hungry, disappointed Whigs,
In vain for places praying;
Like starving, desperate, gambling prigs
Losing each bet they're laying;
Like such, were all the doleful people—
Like them, the female sex did weep all,
When from their sight, they from the steeple
Saw George their King astraying.

11

About two hundred Irish lads,
Were standing on Howth height, ma'am,
Whose heart sufficiently it glads,
Far off to see the sight, ma'am,
Of all the frigates, yachts, and steamers,
And royal standards, flags, and streamers,
About the King—They were not dreamers
That he'd be there that night, ma'am.

12

But when they saw, that to their town,
The Royal Navigator
Approach'd—And when all bearing down
Came boat, sloop, ship, first-rater—
Lord! what a row the fellows raised!
And how his Majesty they praised!
The shout the very shores amazed!
No King e'er caused a greater.

13

At length with fav'ring steam and gale,
The Lightning safe did steer in;

178

The crowd the Royal Ensign hail,—
Each bright eye bore a tear in
Token of joy! The foremost ranks
Slid down a gangway from the banks:
With silk they carpeted the planks—
The King has stept on Erin!

14

Could I write melodies like Moore,
Or ballads like Sir Walter,
Or any such great poet, sure
My strain should be no halter.
I'd sing a song without a blunder,
Should make posterity all wonder,
And George's praise should sound like thunder,
Before my voice should falter!

15

But since poor I am not the least
Like them, a wight rhetorical,
My reader's precious time to waste
With Blarney a damn'd bore I call.
But yet I needn't hold my tongue,
I'll tell how round the King they hung,
Although this story be not sung
In language metaphorical.

16

Our gracious King to all the crowd
His willing hand extended,

179

And even the poorest Pat felt proud,
So much he condescended.
And willing hands the pockets picking,
Gold watches grabbing, brass ones nicking,
Made no distinction more than the King,
Lest folks should feel offended.

17

Mounting the carriage steps with grace,
“My friends,” he cried, “I thank ye!”—
The coachman takes his reins and says,
“My tits soon home shall spank ye.”—
Than came the horsemen on with pride,
Some of them their own chargers ride,
While some paid half a crown a-side,
And some had but a donkey.

18

The crowd increased as they went on,
Because their hearts were loyal;
They ran so fast their breath was gone,
They scarce could speak for joy all.
But of their great politeness judge,
When they came to the Porter's Lodge,
They not one other step would bodge,
Because the grounds were royal.

19

But when the King cried “Come along,
My friends, pray don't be frighted;”
No sooner said than all the throng
Rush'd on to where he lighted.
Again at stepping on the ground,
He shook the hands of all around,
And made their hearts with joy rebound,
When he with face delighted,

180

20

Exclaimed, “My soul is glad to day,
My own dear Irish nation;
I love you more than I can say,
So great my agitation.
I've loved you always—man and boy—
And here I'm come, and will employ,
To drink your health, without alloy,
Of whiskey a libation.”

21

Thus said the King, and then the stair
He royalty ascended.
God save the King! through all the air,
With four times four was blended!
This being all I had to say,
About this memorable day,
Contentedly my pen I lay
Down—for my tale is ended.