[Illustration] Well, whin we passed the statutes white, Up to O'Connell Brudge, The Fairy Queen smiled up at me, An' gev a knowin' nudge, "Corney!" siz she, "I want a dhrink!" "Do ye me dear?" siz I, An' on the minute faith I felt, Meself was shockin' dhry. Well then she brought me coorsin off, Down be the Liffy's walls, An' up a narra gloomy sthreet, Up to a Palace Halls! An' there they wor, all splindid lit, "Come in me love," siz she. I thought me heart'ed brake, to hear Her spake so kind to me! Well in we wint, an' down we sat, Behind a marvel schreen, An' there we dhrank, of drink galore, Me an' the Fairy Queen. She spoke by alphabetic signs, Siz she, "We'll have J.J. An' whin we swalley'd that, siz she, "L.L. is raal O.K." We tossed them off like milk, siz she, "At these we need'nt stick, D. W. D.'s a quench you'll find, A. I, an' up to Dick!" Well thin she left the alphabet, An' flying to the sky, "The three star brand's the best" siz she, "To sparkle up your eye," Thin "here!" says she "just taste Owld Tom," But augh! agin me grain It wint! siz she "It's mum's the word, We'll cure it, wid champagne!" I never drank such sortin's, of The drink, in all me life, Signs on it, in the mornin', me Digestion, was at strife! At last, we qualified our drooth, An' up she got, siz she, "We'll just retire to private life, So Corney, come wid me." But just before I stood to go, I siz quite aisy "Miss, You might bestow poor Corney K. One little simple kiss." "Ah! Corney tibbey, sure," said she, "Two if ye like, ye thrush!" O have ye saw the blackberries, Upon the brambly bush? The Johnny Magory still is bright, Whin all the flowers are dead, Her hair, was like the blackberries! Her dhress, Magory red! O have you ever saunthered out Upon a winther's night, Whin the crispy frost, is on the ground, An' all the stars, are bright? Then have you bent your awe sthrick gaze, There, up aginst the skies? The stars are very bright, you think, Well thim was just her eyes [Illustration] Were you ever down at the strawberry beds, An' seen them dhrowned in chrame? Well that was her complexion, and Her teeth, wor shockin' white! An' the music of her laughin' chaff, Was like a beggar's dhrame, Whin he hears the silver jingle, and His rags are out of sight!