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

‘Who,’—ask ye! No matter.—This tongue shall not tell,
O'er the board of oblivion the name of the bard;
Nor shall it be utter'd, but with the proud spell,
That sheds on the perish'd their only reward.

No, no! look abroad, Sir, the last of October;
In the pages of Blackwood that name shall be writ,
For Christopher's self, be he tipsy or sober,
Was not more than his match, in wine, wisdom, or wit.

Ye Dowdens and Jenningses, wits of Cork city,
Though mighty the heroes that chime in your song,
Effervescing and eloquent—more is the pity
Ye forget the great poet of Blarney so long.

I mean not the second, O'Fogarty hight,
Who can speak for himself, from his own native Helicon
I sing of an elder, in birth and in might,
(Be it said with due deference,)—honest Dick Millikin.

Then fill up, to his mem'ry, a bumper, my boys,
'Twill cheer his sad ghost, as it toddles along
Through Pluto's dark alleys, in search of the joys
That were dear upon earth to this step-son of song.

And this be the rule of the banquet for aye,
When the goblets all ring with “Och hone, Ullagone!
Remember this pledge, as a tribute to pay
To the name of a minstrel so sweet, so unknown