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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NET RESULTS |
 | Ireland for the Irish |  |
NET RESULTS
Poaching Jem, the keeper's bastard,
Swears enough for five:
Red-arm'd Joe is but a dastard,—
Left the man alive;
Never fired the other barrel
When the first one hung.
Mark him! Dead men never quarrel.
Damn your peaching tongue!
Swears enough for five:
Red-arm'd Joe is but a dastard,—
Left the man alive;
Never fired the other barrel
When the first one hung.
Mark him! Dead men never quarrel.
Damn your peaching tongue!
60
Sam works hard, is strong and “willing,”—
God, he knows the need:
Week by week for every shilling
Is a mouth to feed.
Breaks his back: “Well! there's the parish.”
After thirty years
For one master? Times are fairish:
Thriftless never fears.
God, he knows the need:
Week by week for every shilling
Is a mouth to feed.
Breaks his back: “Well! there's the parish.”
After thirty years
For one master? Times are fairish:
Thriftless never fears.
Sam's wife, child-worn, labour-harried,
Looks “a crazy hag.”
—“She was comely when she married.”
—“How these long days lag.”
—“Who'd have thought so? You said comely?”
—Yes, my Lord! indeed:
Though her Grace might look but homely
Hid in rustic weed.
Looks “a crazy hag.”
—“She was comely when she married.”
—“How these long days lag.”
—“Who'd have thought so? You said comely?”
—Yes, my Lord! indeed:
Though her Grace might look but homely
Hid in rustic weed.
Sam's Jane takes her master's fancy,
Flaunts in satin gown;
Dies a Covent-Garden pansy,
Trodden by the town.
Sam's Bill weeds for broken victuals;
Jem sets wires and skulks;
Jem's Bob drinks his gains at skittles;
Jacob's at the hulks.
Flaunts in satin gown;
Dies a Covent-Garden pansy,
Trodden by the town.
Sam's Bill weeds for broken victuals;
Jem sets wires and skulks;
Jem's Bob drinks his gains at skittles;
Jacob's at the hulks.
61
Parish-married Hannah sigheth
For a widow'd bed;
Hannah's idiot daughter dieth;
Other twain are dead.
Monday week the Club will pay her:
This will make up thrice.
John the fourth, if nothing stay her.
Hannah poisons mice.
For a widow'd bed;
Hannah's idiot daughter dieth;
Other twain are dead.
Monday week the Club will pay her:
This will make up thrice.
John the fourth, if nothing stay her.
Hannah poisons mice.
Sunday-School may mend their morals:
True, when trees grow beef.
Landlord's babies suck their corals
On a coral reef.
Patch old Etna, patent Lacquer!
Hold red Lava down!
Make God's Priest your under-knacker!—
And so keep “your own!”
True, when trees grow beef.
Landlord's babies suck their corals
On a coral reef.
Patch old Etna, patent Lacquer!
Hold red Lava down!
Make God's Priest your under-knacker!—
And so keep “your own!”
| Ireland for the Irish | |