ODE ON THE DEATH OF YAHMASSEERO, COUNCILLOR OF STATE.
Free Translation.
I
Pray, have you heard the news?
One of the footguards drew
His cutlas; in a rage
His anger to assuage,
A councillor he slew!
II
Yahmahsseero's robe
Is stained with fiery gore,
And each that doth him meet,
Calls him upon the street,
The crimson councillor.
III
The current to the east
By Sahnno, little town,
Hath overflown, and burst the dike
With fury, and the castle, like
A fool, hath fallen down.
IV
Who has felled the cherry trees?
And who has felled the plum?
Trees planted in neat boxes,
And anything but hoaxes
For odoriferous gum.
V
A councillor hath been knocked
From off his legs,—most true;
If ever such a thing was heard,
It may most safely be averr'd
That it hath been—adieu!
