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University of Virginia Library

Miscellaneous writings of the late Dr. Maginn

edited by Dr. Shelton Mackenzie

Maginn, William (1793-1842)

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I.

[MEMOIR OF MORGAN ODOHERTY]

Maxims of ODoherty.

DON JUAN UNREAD.

The Irishman and the Lady.

Here Let me Dine.

[Oh! lovely Polly Savage]

THE SOMNAMBULATORY BUTCHER.—An Episode.

AILIE MUSHAT'S CAIRN.

ODE ON THE DEATH OF YAHMASSEERO, COUNCILLOR OF STATE.

[The hounds in the kennel are yelling loud]

FRAGMENT OF A VISION.

[Oh! mortal man, how varied is thy lot]

[Theyre wals ane Brounie offe mucle faime]

There's not a Ioy that Life can give, &c.

'Tis in vain to complain.

Chanson a Boire.

Song of a Fallen Angel over a Bowl of Rum-Punch.

[“Let us drink and be merry]

An Hundred Years Hence.

A Dozen Years Hence.

The Pewter Quart.

The Leather Bottle.

[Now, what do you say to the canns of wood?]

[Now for the pots with handles three]

[Now what of the flagons of silver fine?]

[Of tilting furniture, emblazoned shields]

[Now, what do you say to these glasses fine?]

[Now when this bottle is grown old]

['Tis a pitiful thing, that now-a-days, sirs]

[And now I will begin to declare]

[And therefore leave your twittle twattle]

[Be your liquor small, or thick as mud]

[No flagon, tankard, bottle, or iug]

[Socrates and Aristotle]

[Besides, my good friend, let me tell you, that fellow]

[Your leathèr bottle is used by no man]

An Idyl on the Battle.

LAMENT OF A BIG BRISTOL BUTCHER.

A Twist-imony in Favour of Gin-Twist.

Cork is the Aiden for you, love, and me.

BALLAD ON THE DEATH OF SIMON DE MONTFORT, EARL OF LEICESTER, AT THE BATTLE OF EVERSHAM, 1226.

Lament for Lord Byron.

Odoherty's Dirge

II.

IV.

V.

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238

[Theyre wals ane Brounie offe mucle faime]

Theyre wals ane Brounie offe mucle faime
Thatte ussit too cumme too ane aulde fairme housse
Ande evir the maydes fro theyre beddes came,
Alle theyre werke wals dune, soo cannye and douce.

The cauppis wure cleanit; the yerne wals spunne,
Ande the parritche aye maide forre the oulde guidman,
The kye wure milkit, the yill wals runne,
Ande shininge lyke goude wals the ould brasse pan.

Aude mickle theye wonderit, and mair theye thocht,
But neivir ane wurde too theyre minny spake theye,
Theye lukit aye too the braas theye hadde cofft,
Too buske theyre hayre, and to maike theme gaye.

Thenne outte spake Jennye, the youngeste ane,
“I'm shure to mye Jocke itte wull gie delyghte,
Ande maike the laddye a' fidginge faine,
Too see the luffes offe mye handes soe whyte.”

Thenne outte spake Kirstene, as doune she satte
Before the glasse toe kaim herre hayre,
“Oh! luke,” quoth she, “I amme gettinge soe fatte,
Thatte I offe idlesse muste beware.

“The neiburs theye wille kenne noe mee,
Forre I'm scrimply aible to gaung aboutte,
Iffe I gette on soe, ye wulle brieflye see
A hurlye cofft toe carrye mee outte,” &c.