Now, for the land of verdant Erin, The Sultaun's royal bark is steering, The Emerald Isle, where honest Paddy dwells, The cousin of John Bull, as story tells. For a long space had John, with words of thunder Hard looks, and harder knocks, kept Paddy under, Till the poor lad, like boy that's flogg'd unduly, Had gotten somewhat restive and unruly. Hard was his lot and lodging, you'll allow, A wigwam that would hardly serve a sow; His landlord, and of middle men two brace, Had screw'd his rent up to the starving-place; His garment was a top-coat, and an old one, His meal was a potato, and a cold one; But still for fun or frolic, and all that, In the round world was not the match of Pat. The Sultaun saw him on a holiday, Which is with Paddy still a jolly day; When mass is ended, and his load of sins Confess'd, and Mother Church hath from her binns Dealt forth a bonus of imputed merit, Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit! To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free, And dance as light as leaf upon the tree. "By Mahomet," said Sultaun Solimaun, "That ragged fellow is our very man! Rush in and seize him--do not do him hurt, But, will he nill he, let me have his SHIRT." Shilela their plan was well-nigh after baulking (Much less provocation will set it a-walking), But the odds that foil'd Hercules foil'd Paddy Whack; They seized, and they floor'd, and they stripp'd him--Alack Up-bubboo! Paddy had not--a shirt to his back!!! And the King, disappointed, with sorrow and shame Went back to Serendib as sad as he came. THE DONKEY AND HIS PANNIERS. THOMAS MOORE. A donkey whose talent for burden was wondrous, So much that you'd swear he rejoiced in a load, One day had to jog under panniers so pond'rous, That--down the poor donkey fell, smack on the road. His owners and drivers stood round in amaze-- What! Neddy, the patient, the prosperous Neddy So easy to drive through the dirtiest ways, For every description of job-work so ready! One driver (whom Ned might have "hail'd" as a "brother") Had just been proclaiming his donkey's renown, For vigor, for spirit, for one thing or other-- When, lo! 'mid his praises, the donkey came down. But, how to upraise him?--one shouts, T'OTHER whistles, While Jenky, the conjurer, wisest of all, Declared that an "over-production" of thistles-- (Here Ned gave a stare)--was the cause of his fall. Another wise Solomon cries, as he passes-- "There, let him alone, and the fit will soon cease, The beast has been fighting with other jack-asses, And this is his mode of 'TRANSITION TO PEACE'" Some look'd at his hoofs, and, with learned grimaces, Pronounced that too long without shoes he had gone-- "Let the blacksmith provide him a sound metal basis (The wiseacres said), and he's sure to jog on."