Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

VII.

No money left for fquand'ring heirs!

Bills turn the lenders into debtors:

The wish of Nero now is theirs,

That they had never known their letters *.

VIII.

Conceive the works of midnight hags,
Tormenting fools behind their backs:
Thus bankers o'er their bills and bags
Sit fqueezing images of wax †.

IX.

Conceive the whole enchantment broke ;
The witches left in open air,

With pow'r no more than other folk,
Expos'd with all their magick ware.

X.

So pow'rful are a banker's bills,

Where creditors demand their due; They break up counters, doors and tills, And leave the empty chefts in view.

XI.

Thus when an earthquake lets in light
Upon the god of gold and hell,
Unable to endure the fight,
He hides within his darkest cell.

It is faid of Nero, that when he first came to the imperial dignity from the tutorage of Seneca, being asked to fign a warrant for an execution he wished he

could not write.

+ Witches were fabled to torment the abfent by roafting or otherwife ill treating their images in wax,

XII.

As when a conj'rer takes a lease
From Satan for a term of years,
The tenant's in a dismal cafe,
Whene'er the bloody bond *

appears.

XIII.

A baited banker thus defponds,

From his own hand foresees his fall; They have his foul, who have his bonds; 'Tis like the writing on the wall †.

XIV.

How will the caitiff wretch be fcar'd,
When firft he finds himself awake

At the last trumpet, unprepar'd,

And all his grand account to make?

For in that univerfal call

XV.

Few bankers will to heav'n be mounters;

They'll cry, Ye'fhops, upon us fall,

Conceal and cover us, ye counters:

XVI.

When other hands the feales fhall hold,
And they in men and angels' fight
Produc'd with all their bills and gold,
Weigh'din the ballance, and found light.

[ocr errors]

These contracts were always fupposed to be figned with blood.
Mene mene tekel upharfin,

The

The Defcription of an Irish Feaft, tranflated almost literally out of the original Irish.

Tranflated in the Year 1720.

OROURK's noble fare

Will ne'er be forgot,

By those who were there,

Or those who were not.
His revels to keep,

We fup and we dine
On seven score sheep,
Fat bullocks and fwine.
Ufquebaugh to our feast

In pails was brought up,
An hundred at least,

And a * madder our cup.
O there is the fport!
We rife with the light
In diforderly fort

From fnoring all night.
O how was I trick'd!
My pipe it was broke,
My pocket was pick'd,
I loft my new cloak.
I'm rifled, quoth Nel,

Of mantle and † kercher :
Why then fare them well,

The de'el take the fearcher.

Come, harper, ftrike up;
But, firft, by your favour,

Boy, give us a cup:

Ah! this has fome favour.

* Wooden veffel.

+ Handkerchief.

O Rourk's

O Rourk's jolly boys..

Ne'er dreamt of the matter,

Till rous'd by the noise

And mufical clatter,

They bounce from their neft,

No longer will tarry,

They rife ready dreft,

Without one ave mary. They dance in a round,

Cutting capers and ramping; A mercy the ground

Did not burft with their stamping The floor is all wet

With leaps and with jumps, While the water and sweat

Splish splash in their pumps. Bless you late and early, Laughlin O Enagin,

By my hand, you dance rarely,

+ Margery Grinagin.

Bring ftraw for our bed,

Shake it down to the feet,

Then over us spread,

The winnowing sheet:
To fhow I don't flinch,
Fill the bowl up again;
Then give us a pinch

Of your fneezing, a year.
Good lord, what a fight,
After all their good cheer,

For people to fight

In the midst of their beer?

* An Irifb oath.

7

†The name of an Irish woman.

An Irish word for a woman,

They

They rife from their feast,

And hot are their brains, A cubit at least

The length of their * fkeans. What ftabs and what cuts,

What clatt'ring of sticks; What ftrokes on the guts, What baftings and kicks! With cudgels of oak

Well harden'd in flame An hundred heads broke, An hundred ftruck lame. You churl, I'll maintain My father built Lusk, The caftle of Slain,

And Carrick Drumrusk : The earl of Kildare

And Moynalta, his brother As great as they are,

I was nurft by their mother †. Afk that of old madam,

She'll tell you who's who,

As far up as Adam,

She knows it is true. Come down with that beam, If cudgels are fcarce,

A blow on the weam,

Or a kick on the a- -fe.

Daggers, or fhort swords.

and their children fofter-broIt is the custom in Ireland thers or fofter fifters; and thus to call nurfes fofter-mothers; the pooreft claim kindred to their husbands fofter-fathers; the richeft.

A French

« AnteriorContinua »