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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EXPORTS |
 | Ireland for the Irish |  |
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EXPORTS
Ship your grain and starve the sower!
Sell your beasts in foreign ports!
Will your labourers die the slower,
Feeding on Lord Ruffian's orts?
Quote your “exports” in “the House,”
Prove the land at least is rich;
Join hands on it and carouse,
While Toil starveth in a ditch!
Sell your beasts in foreign ports!
Will your labourers die the slower,
Feeding on Lord Ruffian's orts?
Quote your “exports” in “the House,”
Prove the land at least is rich;
Join hands on it and carouse,
While Toil starveth in a ditch!
Meat,—Good God! the serf is dainty;
Wheat,—But that is freemen's bread;
Oats,—Perhaps the crop was scanty,
Greedy's horses must be fed.
“See my favourite mare, that roan!
“Thorough blood,—You dog! to dare
“To stint her corn.” Who heard the moan
Of Famine in the harvest air?
Wheat,—But that is freemen's bread;
Oats,—Perhaps the crop was scanty,
Greedy's horses must be fed.
“See my favourite mare, that roan!
“Thorough blood,—You dog! to dare
“To stint her corn.” Who heard the moan
Of Famine in the harvest air?
“Grain,—what! meant to feed a nation?
“Sir! grown on my land, my grain,
“By wretches owe me rent? Damnation!
“Tell my reptile to distrain!”
Ship your grain and starve the grower!
Men are beasts,—or in our ports
Exportation might be slower,
And Lord Ruffian feed on orts.
“Sir! grown on my land, my grain,
“By wretches owe me rent? Damnation!
“Tell my reptile to distrain!”
Ship your grain and starve the grower!
Men are beasts,—or in our ports
Exportation might be slower,
And Lord Ruffian feed on orts.
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