Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/503
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THE DUKE AND THE PIG.
485
"Hold," quoth the boy, "a moment stay,
Bring something else that's in your way,"
Adding, with self-approving grin,
"My drumstick, now your hand is in."
Bring something else that's in your way,"
Adding, with self-approving grin,
"My drumstick, now your hand is in."
The Duke and the Pig; or, Paying the Rent.
A certain Viceroy in the Emerald Isle,
Some fourscore years ago,
Just thereabouts or so—
Resolved, as 'twas the balmy summer-time,
To make a gay provincial tour,
And view the country in its blooming prime,
As many other Viceroys did before.
His Grace was very fond of smoking,
Drank like a fish—laid all wine-bibbers low,
Who had great drinking fame
Before he came:
Therefore they could not stand this blow,
Which was provoking.
His travelling equipage was all arrayed,
He handed in his Duchess—yet afraid
That something might have been forgotten,
He to his footman called—"John! John!
Is my Egyptian pipe within the coach?"
"It is, my lord." "John! John! that is well thought on—
That's right—there's nothing else—now we'll be gone;
To leave my pipe behind were a reproach."
They travelled rapidly; admired each scene
That met their sight—the hills of verdant green—
The wood—the water—rising to their view;
And thought if landlords did as they should do,
Live in their country—stimulate the toil
Of peasant industry to till the soil;
Consult his comforts, and promote his peace;—
Ireland would be a very different place.
'Twas fading afternoon, while up a hill
The carriage slowly went;
The Egyptian pipe his Grace began to fill,
And on a smoke intent,
He sought a cabin near the roadside way,
To get a light, and puff all care away.
Now, in the Emerald Isle it is not odd
Some fourscore years ago,
Just thereabouts or so—
Resolved, as 'twas the balmy summer-time,
To make a gay provincial tour,
And view the country in its blooming prime,
As many other Viceroys did before.
His Grace was very fond of smoking,
Drank like a fish—laid all wine-bibbers low,
Who had great drinking fame
Before he came:
Therefore they could not stand this blow,
Which was provoking.
His travelling equipage was all arrayed,
He handed in his Duchess—yet afraid
That something might have been forgotten,
He to his footman called—"John! John!
Is my Egyptian pipe within the coach?"
"It is, my lord." "John! John! that is well thought on—
That's right—there's nothing else—now we'll be gone;
To leave my pipe behind were a reproach."
They travelled rapidly; admired each scene
That met their sight—the hills of verdant green—
The wood—the water—rising to their view;
And thought if landlords did as they should do,
Live in their country—stimulate the toil
Of peasant industry to till the soil;
Consult his comforts, and promote his peace;—
Ireland would be a very different place.
'Twas fading afternoon, while up a hill
The carriage slowly went;
The Egyptian pipe his Grace began to fill,
And on a smoke intent,
He sought a cabin near the roadside way,
To get a light, and puff all care away.
Now, in the Emerald Isle it is not odd