So let us raise Victoria's praise, And Albert's proud condition, That takes his ayse As he surveys This Cristial Exhibition. MOLONY'S LAMENT. O TIM, did you hear of thim Saxons, And shut up the Castle and Coort! They're bint, the blagyards, to destroy, And now, having murdthered our counthry, They're goin to kill the Viceroy, Dear boy; 'Twas he was our proide and our joy! And will we no longer behould him, Surrounding his carriage in throngs, As he weaves his cocked hat from the windies, And smiles to his bould aid-de-congs? I liked for to see the young haroes, All shoining with sthripes and with stars, A horsing about in the Phaynix, And winking the girls in the cyars, A smokin' their poipes and cigyars. Dear Mitchell, exoiled to Bermudies, And there'll be an abondance of croyin From O'Brine at the Keep of Good Hope, When they read of this news in the peepers, Acrass the Atlantical wave, That the last of the Oirish Liftinints Of the oisland of Seents has tuck lave. And what's to become of poor Dame Sthreet, And who'll ait the puffs and the tarts, Whin the Coort of imparial splindor From Doblin's sad city departs? And who'll have the fiddlers and pipers, When the deuce of a Coort there remains? And where'll be the bucks and the ladies, It's thus that ould Erin complains! There's Counsellor Flanagan's leedy, 'Twas she in the Coort didn't fail, And she wanted a plinty of popplin, For her dthress, and her flounce, and her tail; She bought it of Misthress O'Grady, Eight shillings a yard tabinet, But now that the Coort is concluded, The divvle a yard will she get; Bedad, that she wears the old set. There's Surgeon O'Toole and Miss Leary, They'd choose the expense to ashume. There's Alderman Toad and his lady, 'Twas they gave the Clart and the Poort, I warnt that the aiting will stop, Or chop, And the butcher may shut up his shop. Yes, the grooms and the ushers are goin, And his Lordship, the dear honest man, And the Duchess, his eemiable leedy, And Corry, the bould Connellan, And little Lord Hyde and the childthren, And the Chewter and Governess tu; And the servants are packing their boxes, O, murther, but what shall I due Without you? O Meery, with oi's of the blue! MR. MOLONY'S ACCOUNT OF THE BALL GIVEN TO THE NEPAULESE AMBASSADOR BY THE PENINSULAR AND ORIENTAL COMPANY. O WILL ye choose to hear the news, Bedad, I cannot pass it o'er: I'll tell you all about the Ball To the Naypaulase Ambassador. These men of sinse dispoised expinse, To fête these black Achilleses. "We'll show the blacks," says they, "Almack's, With flags and shawls, for these Nepauls, And decked the walls, and stairs, and halls, |