Our desolate counthry of Oireland,
They're bint, the blagyards, to desthroy,
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,
Like Mars,

A smokin' their poipes and cigyars.

Dear Mitchell exoiled to Bermudies,
Your beautiful oilids you'll ope,
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.
God save

The Queen-she should betther behave.

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,
To hire the Coort-shuits and the thrains?
In sthrains,

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;
I bet,

Bedad, that she wears the old set.

There's Surgeon O'Toole and Miss Leary,
They'd daylings at Madam O'Riggs';
Each year at the dthrawing-room sayson,
They mounted the neatest of wigs.
When Spring, with its buds and its dasies,
Comes out in her beauty and bloom,
Thim tu'll never think of new jasies,
Becase there is no dthrawing-room,
For whom

They'd choose the expense to ashume.

There's Alderman Toad and his lady,
'Twas they gave the Clart and the Poort,
And the poine-apples, turbots, and lobsters,
To feast the Lord Liftinint's Coort.

But now that the quality's goin,

I warnt that the aiting will stop,
And you'll get at the Alderman's teeble
The devil a bite or a dthrop,

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,--
Oh, murther, but what shall I due
Without you?

O Meery, with ois of the blue!

MR. MOLONY'S ACCOUNT OF THE BALL

GIVEN ΤΟ 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.
Begor! this fête all balls does bate

At which I've worn a pump, and I
Must here relate the splendthor great
Of th' Oriental Company.

These men of sinse dispoised expinse,

To fête these black Achilleses.

"We'll show the blacks," says they, "Almack's,
"And take the rooms at Willis's."

With flags and shawls, for these Nepauls,
They hung the rooms of Willis up,

And decked the walls, and stairs, and halls,
With roses and with lilies

up.

And Jullien's band it tuck its stand,

So sweetly in the middle there,

And soft bassoons played heavenly chunes,
And violins did fiddle there.

And when the Coort was tired of spoort,
I'd lave you, boys, to think there was

A nate buffet before them set,

Where lashins of good dhrink there was.

At ten before the ball-room door,
His moighty Excellency was,

He smoiled and bowed to all the crowd,
So gorgeous and immense he was.
His dusky shuit, sublime and mute,

Into the door-way followed him ;
And O the noise of the blackguard boys,
As they hurrood and hollowed him!

The noble Chair stud at the stair,

And bade the dthrums to thump; and he

Did thus evince, to that Black Prince,

The welcome of his Company.

James Matheson, Esq., to whom, and the Board of Directors of the Peninsular and Oriental Company, I, Timotheus Molony, late stoker on board the "Iberia," the "Lady Mary Wood," the "Tagus," and the Oriental steamships, humbly dedicate this production of my grateful muse.