"Cut down the bloody horde!" "This conduct would disgrace any blackamore;" Of his famous battle blade Was to cut his own stick from the Shannon shore. Immortal Smith O'Brine Was raging like a line; 'Twould have done your sowl good to have heard him roar; In his glory he arose, And he rush'd upon his foes, But they hit him on the nose by the Shannon shore. Then the Futt and the Dthragoons In squadthrons and platoons, With their music playing chunes, down upon us bore; But the Peelers came in view, And ended the shaloo on the Shannon shore. THE BALLADS OF POLICEMAN X. THE WOFLE NEW BALLAD OF JANE RONEY AN igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek I stood in the Court of A’Beckett the Beak, Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see, Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin of she. This Mary was pore and in misery once, And she came to Mrs. Roney it's more than twelve monce. She adn't got no bed, nor no dinner nor no tea, And kind Mrs. Roney gave Mary all three. Mrs. Roney kep Mary for ever so many veeks, "Mrs. Roney, O Mrs. Roney, I feel very ill; Will you jest step to the Doctor's for to fetch me a pill ?" “That I will, my pore Mary," Mrs. Roney says she; And she goes off to the Doctor's as quickly as may be. No sooner on this message Mrs. Roney was sped, Mrs. Roney's best linning gownds, petticoats, and close, Her children's little coats and things, her boots, and her hose, She packed them, and she stole 'em, and avay vith them did flee. Mrs. Roney's situation-you may think vat it vould be! Of Mary, ungrateful, who had served her this vay, She was leaning on the helbo of a worthy young man, They were going to be married, and were walkin hand in hand; When up comes Mrs. Roney, and faces Mary Brown, Mrs. Roney, o, Mrs. Roney, o, do let me go, But the marriage bell is a ringin, and the ring you may see, I don't care three fardens for the parson and clark, And the bell may keep ringin from noon day to dark. So, in spite of the tears which bejew'd Mary's cheek, But never a sullable said Mary said she. "And so, vith arp and woice, Both troubled and shagreened, I bid you to rejoice. O glorious England's Queend! And never have to veep, like pore Louis-Phileep, Because you out are cleaned. "O, Prins, so brave and stout, I stand before your gate; Pray send a trifle hout To me, your pore old Vait; For nothink could be vuss than it's been along vith us, In this year Forty-eight." "Ven this bad year began," The nex man said, saysee, "I vas a Journeyman, A taylor black and free, And my wife went out and chaired about, And my name's the bold Cuffee. "The Queen and Halbert both, To drag them to the ground; "Aginst her Pleacemen all, We said we'd try our strenth; Her scarlick soldiers tall, We vow'd we'd lay full lenth : |