Ireland for the Irish Rhymes and Reasons Against Landlordism with a Preface on Fenianism and Republicanism. By W. J. Linton, Formerly of the Irish "Nation" |
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THE CONTRAST |
 | Ireland for the Irish |  |
43
THE CONTRAST
Fitzsteal was his father's heir, flash'd his gold at school,
Drove through College tandem, took his full degree as fool,—
In his rich uncultured rankness grew like foulest weed:—
Labour, peasant-litter'd, had no schoolmaster but Need.
Drove through College tandem, took his full degree as fool,—
In his rich uncultured rankness grew like foulest weed:—
Labour, peasant-litter'd, had no schoolmaster but Need.
Fitzsteal hath his racing stud,—his mares are thoroughbred;
His dogs are plump, his horses sleek, his stable boys are fed;
Fitzsteal hath his foreign cook, his foreign whore and wine:—
Labour's wife and children on the veriest refuse dine
His dogs are plump, his horses sleek, his stable boys are fed;
Fitzsteal hath his foreign cook, his foreign whore and wine:—
Labour's wife and children on the veriest refuse dine
Fitzsteal hath an indigestion,—twice in every day
Sir Henry calls to feel his pulse, to chat, and take his pay:—
In their wretched hovel, where the wind and rain slip through,
Labour's family lie dying,—if the Union doctor knew.
Sir Henry calls to feel his pulse, to chat, and take his pay:—
In their wretched hovel, where the wind and rain slip through,
Labour's family lie dying,—if the Union doctor knew.
Fitzsteal hath his miles of coal,—you and I must pay
Double for our winter fire, to keep him “warm” at play;
Fitzsteal rents the very bog where Labour digs his peat:—
Matters little to the cripple, with his frozen feet.
Double for our winter fire, to keep him “warm” at play;
Fitzsteal rents the very bog where Labour digs his peat:—
Matters little to the cripple, with his frozen feet.
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Fitzsteal losses hath at cards,—his creditors complain;
He raises rents, and sharply bids his jackal to distrain:—
Labour's black potato crop is seized,—they even sell
His old flock bed; Fitzsteal's awake the night long at his “hell.”
He raises rents, and sharply bids his jackal to distrain:—
Labour's black potato crop is seized,—they even sell
His old flock bed; Fitzsteal's awake the night long at his “hell.”
Fitzsteal hath his house in town, with liveried slaves to wait,—
His blazon'd carriage, should it please his Lordship ride in state:—
Driven from the road-side ditch, where he had piled a shed,
Houseless Labour hath no where that he can lay his head.
His blazon'd carriage, should it please his Lordship ride in state:—
Driven from the road-side ditch, where he had piled a shed,
Houseless Labour hath no where that he can lay his head.
Fitzsteal, dying in his palace, full of years and bread,
In his fathers' tomb is laid, with brass above his head:—
Labour's children, fever-murder'd, on a dung-heap lie;
Labour may be coffin'd in the poor-house by and bye.
In his fathers' tomb is laid, with brass above his head:—
Labour's children, fever-murder'd, on a dung-heap lie;
Labour may be coffin'd in the poor-house by and bye.
Fitzsteal was Sir Richard's heir, has never toil'd a day;
Are there improvements on his lands, for them the tenants pay:—
Labour never rested yet. Is all the difference this—
That Labour cultivates the land and Fitzsteal calls it his?
Are there improvements on his lands, for them the tenants pay:—
Labour never rested yet. Is all the difference this—
That Labour cultivates the land and Fitzsteal calls it his?
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