And, at what extreme old age he'll close A whipper-snapper Methusalem ; And, day and night, with awe I recall "That boy'll be the death, the death of you all." LETTER FROM LARRY O'BRANIGAN TO THE REV. MURTAGH ARRAH, where were you, Murthagh, that beautiful day? Or, how came it your riverence was laid on the shelf, When that poor craythur, Bobby-as you were away To be sure, when a lad takes to forgin', this way, That parsons should forge thus appears mighty odd, And (as if somethin' "odd" in their names, too, must be,) One forger, of ould, was a riverend Dod, While a riverend Todd's now his match, to a T.' But, no matther who did it-all blessins betide him, To make the whole grand dish of bull-c'f com- MUSINGS OF AN UNREFORMED PEER Or all the odd plans of this monstrously queer age, Had to make twice as big a Tom-fool of himself. Did not get on exceedingly well, as we are, Throth, it wasn't at all civil to lave in the lurch If thus in two different directions you pull, And perform all the functions of noodles, by birth, How acres descend, is in law-books display'd, Are, all of us, born legislators by nature ; 'Faith, they'll swear that yourself and your Like ducklings, to water instinctively taking, "That you a wise logician are, "And I am―otherwise, ""Tis fit that in this question, we "Stick each to his own art"That yours should be the sophistry, 66 "And mine the fighting part. My creed, I need not tell you, is "Like that of W———n, "To whom no harlot comes amiss, "Save her of Babylon ;1 "And when we're at a loss for words, "If laughing reasoners flout us, "For lack of sense we'll draw our swords "The sole thing sharp about us.""Dear bold dragoon," the bishop said, ""Tis true for war thou art meant ; "And reasoning-bless that dandy head! "Is not in thy department. "So leave the argument to me— "And, when my holy labor "Hath lit the fires of bigotry, "Thou'lt poke them with thy sabre. "From pulpit and from sentry-box, "We'll make our joint attacks, "I at the head of my Cassocks, "And you of Cossacks. your "So here's your health, my brave hussar, "My exquisite old fighter"Success to bigotry and war, "The musket and the mitre !" Thus pray'd the minister of heavenWhile Y-k, just entering then, Snored out, (as if some Clerk had given Some settle your stomach, but this-bless your heart! It will settle, forever, your Catholic Question. Unlike, too, the potions in fashion at present, This Wellington nostrum, restoring by stealth, So purges the mem'ry of all that's unpleasant, That patients forget themselves into rude health. For instance, th' inventor-his having once said "He should think himself mad, if, at any one's call, "He became what he is"-is so purged from his head, That he now doesn't think he's a madman at all. Of course, for your mem'ries of very long standing Old chronic diseases, that date back, undaunted, To Brian Boroo and Fitz-Stephens' first landingA dev❜l of a dose of the Lethe is wanted. But ev'n Irish patients can hardly regret An oblivion, so much in their own native style, So conveniently plann'd, that, whate'er they forget, They may go on rememb'ring it still, all the while 12 1834. Other physical waters but cure you in part; A CHARACTER. HALF Whig, half Tory, like those midway things, By Mother Church, high-fed and haughty dame, On which the fate of unborn tithe-pigs hung. One cobbles your gout-t'other mends your di- When, shock'd, she heard him ape the rabble's tone, gestion 1 Cui nulla meretrix displicuit præter Babylonicam. And, in Old Sarum's fate, foredoom her own! 2 The only parallel I know to this sort of oblivion is to be found in a line of the late Mr. R. P. Knight. “The pleasing war of things forgot." Groaning she cried, while tears roll'd down her "Oh, Lord L-ndh-rst, cheeks, "Poor, glib-tongued youth, he means not what he speaks. "Like oil at top, these Whig professions flow, "But, pure as lymph, runs Toryism below. "Alas, that tongue should start thus, in the race, "Ere mind can reach and regulate its pace!— "For, once outstripp'd by tongue, poor, lagging mind, "At every step, still further limps behind. "But, bless the boy!-whate'er his wandering be, "Still turns his heart to Toryism and me. "Like those odd shapes, portray'd in Dante's lay,' "With heads fix'd on, the wrong and backward way, "His feet and eyes pursue a diverse track, "While those march onward, these look fondly back." And well she knew him-well foresaw the day, Which now hath come, when snatch'd from Whigs away, The self-same changeling drops the mask he wore, And rests, restored, in granny's arms once more. But whither now, mix'd brood of modern light Bold L-ndh-rst then, whom naught could keep Awake, or surely that would, Cried "Curse you all"-fell fast asleep And dreamt of "Small v. Attwood." Crying, "Oh, Lord L-ndh-rst, "Not Old Scratch "Himself could match "That terrible Lord L-ndh-rst.” And never, till now, a movement made Wherein lay pickled, in state sublime, Robb'd of their roosts, shall still hoot o'er them! Nor mayors shall know where to seek a nest, Till Gally Knight shall find one for them ;- Must join their brother, Charles Dix, at Prague. Thus mused I, in my chair, alone, Was dancing the hays with Hume and Grote; While Stanley and Graham, as poissarde wenches, The Lord preserve us!-if dreams come true, What is this hapless realm to do? A term formed on the model of the Mastodon, &c. Lest the savantes and dandies should think this all fable, Mr. Tomkins most kindly produced on the table, All products of earth, both gramineous, herbaceous, All clubbing their quotas to glut the œsophagus Of this ever greedy and grasping Tithophagus.2 « Admire," exclaim'd Tomkins, "the kind dispensa tion "By Providence shed on this much-favor'd nation, "In sweeping so ravenous a race from the earth, "That might else have occasion'd a general dearth "And thus burying 'em, deep as even Joe Huine would sink 'em, "With the Ichthyosaurus and Palæorynchum, 2 The zoological term for a tithe-eater. |