Ballads By William Makepeace Thackeray Part 29

"Three 'undred thousand sn.o.bs Came out to stop the vay, Vith sticks vith iron k.n.o.bs, Or else we'd gained the day.

The harmy quite kept out of sight, And so ve vent avay.

"Next day the Pleacemen came-- Rewenge it was their plann-- And from my good old dame They took her tailor-mann: And the hard hard beak did me bespeak To Newgit in the Wann.

"In that etrocious Cort The Jewry did agree; The Judge did me transport, To go beyond the sea: And so for life, from his dear wife They took poor old Cuffee.

"O Halbert, Appy Prince!

With children round your knees, Ingraving ansum Prints, And taking hoff your hease; O think of me, the old Cuffee, Beyond the solt solt seas!

"Although I'm hold and black, My hanguish is most great; Great Prince, O call me back, And I vill be your Vait!

And never no more vill break the Lor, As I did in 'Forty-eight."

The tailer thus did close (A pore old blackymore rogue), When a dismal gent uprose, And spoke with Hirish brogue: "I'm Smith O'Brine, of Royal Line, Descended from Rory Ogue.

"When great O'Connle died, That man whom all did trust, That man whom Henglish pride Beheld with such disgust, Then Erin free fixed eyes on me, And swoar I should be fust.

"'The glorious Hirish Crown,'

Says she, 'it shall be thine: Long time, it's wery well known, You kep it in your line; That diadem of hemerald gem Is yours, my Smith O'Brine.

"'Too long the Saxon churl Our land enc.u.mbered hath; Arise my Prince, my Earl, And brush them from thy path: Rise, mighty Smith, and sveep 'em vith The besom of your wrath.'

"Then in my might I rose, My country I surveyed, I saw it filled with foes, I viewed them undismayed; 'Ha, ha!' says I, 'the harvest's high, I'll reap it with my blade.'

"My warriors I enrolled, They rallied round their lord; And cheafs in council old I summoned to the board-- Wise Doheny and Duffy bold, And Meagher of the Sword.

"I stood on Slievenamaun, They came with pikes and bills; They gathered in the dawn, Like mist upon the hills, And rushed adown the mountain side Like twenty thousand rills.

"Their fortress we a.s.sail; Hurroo! my boys, hurroo!

The b.l.o.o.d.y Saxons quail To hear the wild Shaloo: Strike, and prevail, proud Innesfail, O'Brine aboo, aboo!

"Our people they defied; They shot at 'em like savages, Their b.l.o.o.d.y guns they plied With sanguinary ravages: Hide, blus.h.i.+ng Glory, hide That day among the cabbages!

"And so no more I'll say, But ask your Mussy great.

And humbly sing and pray, Your Majesty's poor Wait: Your Smith O'Brine in 'Forty-nine Will blush for 'Forty-eight."

LINES ON A LATE HOSPICIOUS EWENT.*

BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE FOOTGUARDS (BLUE).

I paced upon my beat With steady step and slow, All huppandownd of Ranelagh Street: Ran'lagh St. Pimlico.

While marching huppandownd Upon that fair May morn, Beold the booming cannings sound, A royal child is born!

The Ministers of State Then presnly I sor, They gallops to the Pallis gate, In carridges and for.

With anxious looks intent, Before the gate they stop, There comes the good Lord President, And there the Archbishopp.

Lord John he next elights; And who comes here in haste?

'Tis the ero of one underd fights, The caudle for to taste.

Then Mrs. Lily, the nuss, Towards them steps with joy; Says the brave old Duke, "Come tell to us, Is it a gal or a boy?"

Says Mrs. L. to the Duke, "Your Grace, it is A PRINCE."

And at that nuss's bold rebuke, He did both laugh and wince.

He vews with pleasant look This pooty flower of May, Then, says the wenarable Duke, "Egad, it's my buthday."

By memory backwards borne, Peraps his thoughts did stray To that old place where he was born, Upon the first of May.

Perhaps he did recal The ancient towers of Trim; And County Meath and Dangan Hall They did rewisit him.

I phansy of him so His good old thoughts employin'; Fourscore years and one ago Beside the flowin' Boyne.

His father praps he sees, Most Musicle of Lords, A playing maddrigles and glees Upon the Arpsicords.

Jest phansy this old Ero Upon his mother's knee!

Did ever lady in this land Ave greater sons than she?

And I shoudn be surprize While this was in his mind, If a drop there twinkled in his eyes Of unfamiliar brind.

To Hapsly Ouse next day Drives up a Broosh and for, A gracious prince sits in that Shay (I mention him with Hor!)

They ring upon the bell, The Porter shows his Ed, (He fought at Vaterloo as vell, And vears a Veskit red).

To see that carriage come, The people round it press: "And is the galliant Duke at ome?"

"Your Royal Ighness, yes."

He stepps from out the Broosh And in the gate is gone; And X, although the people push, Says wary kind, "Move hon."

The Royal Prince unto The galliant Duke did say, "Dear duke, my little son and you Was born the self same day.

"The Lady of the land, My wife and Sovring dear, It is by her horgust command I wait upon you here.

"That lady is as well As can expected be; And to your Grace she bid me tell This gracious message free.

"That offspring of our race, Whom yesterday you see, To show our honor for your Grace, Prince Arthur he shall be.

"That name it rhymes to fame; All Europe knows the sound: And I couldn't find a better name If you'd give me twenty pound.

"King Arthur had his knights That girt his table round, But you have won a hundred fights, Will match 'em I'll be bound.

"You fought with Bonypart, And likewise Tippoo Saib; I name you then with all my heart The G.o.dsire of this babe."