Puslapio vaizdai

Thomas Moore, Esq. has claimed for the Irish, though to my mind there go two words to that bargain. This last seems to hit Roger's fancy; for I since find he can skirl through it, from beginning to end, under the alluring title of the "Irish Captain's Garland." I give it you just to fill up the sheet.

[merged small][ocr errors]

A sash about his waist,-
By his side hung his Androferary, 0;
With his spurs of polish'd steel
That jingled at his heel,
There was none could compare with Paddy
Carey, O.

He loved a maiden tall,

Whom some call'd "Pretty Poll," Though her god-fathers only called her Mary, O,

Her shape and janty air,

Soft eyes and sunny hair,

And straight the gallant Captain so wary, O,
Said" Ladies, I request

The tune that you love best.".
She sigh'd, as she whisper'd-" Paddy
Carey, O."

Then straight unto the band
The Captain waved his hand,
Having bow'd to his charmer so airy, O;
And, determined to engage her,
He order'd the drum-major

To play up the planxty Paddy Carey, O.
While the tune it was lilting,
Sweet Polly's eyes so melting
Bewitch'd him, like an angel or a fairy, O;
And, when the tune was play'd,
He whisper'd her, and said,

"Have pity on your own Paddy Carey, O.

"I am a soldier tall,

An Irishman and all,


I came all the way from Tipperary, O;
And, though I'm something frisky,
I'll love you more than whisky,

If you can love again your Paddy Carey, O.

"I fought at Waterloo,

Where Boney got his due,

Play'd havock with the heart of Paddy And ran away from Pat în a quandary, O;

Carey, O.

Though lovers would annoy,

This damsel still was coy,

And always to their suit was contrary, O;

And little did she dream,

When to Sunderland she came,

I've pocket-fulls of plunder,
So, joy, you cannot blunder

In striking up a match with Paddy Ca

rey, O."

Her voice it was hush'd,

Like the morning she blush'd,

That ever she should sigh for Paddy Ca- And red unto white did she vary, O; rey, O.

On Sunderland Parade

He saw her first, 'tis said,

And though she hated violence,
She pocketed in silence

A squeeze and a salute from Paddy Ca-
rey, O.

Now, good luck to the tune

That melts the girls so soon,

And puts them into such a sisserary, O;
Let us stick to the plan

Of being happy when we can,

So, piper, rattle up with Paddy Carey, O.

Many of the local songs of Northumberland are full of exquisite humour ; but these, as you know, Mr North, would require an interpreter. They say the Lord Chancellor's very fond of them; but I am getting to the end of my tether. Dinah begs her dutiful respects, and so does Roger. You will be sorry to hear poor Mr Charlton of Heatheryside is dead. He stinted himself, latterly, to three or four chearers; but would never hear any thing against the malt-liquor, and the Doctor said it was just as bad for him. With much respect, am, honoured Sir, your servant to command, JOSIAH SHUFFLEBOTHAM.

Gowk's-Hall, Oct. 27th, 1821.

P. S.-Your clearing receipt will be well hanselled, as John is brewing a double quantity this year. We are expecting the Lieutenant, Roger's brother, home, poor lad, by and bye. I know you're just frightened at the name of a month, but cannot you spare us a fortnight, Mr North ?-As I know you like these sort of nick-nacks, I got Stavely the clerk, who pretends to be very clever at music, just to prick down a couple of the wildest of the airs. Indeed, the last is so wild, that he says it is hard to tell what key it is in. It is so simple, however, on the whole, that I hope it may be intelligible; though I rather suspect his "sol-fa” knowledge is none of the deepest, and that he would soon be lost among the quirks and quavers, and whuttle, whuts of one of the Bravura things, as the fiddler folks call them.


O THE weary cutters, they've ta'en my laddie frae me, O the

weary cutters, they've ta'en my laddie frae me; They've press'd him

far a-way foreign, with Nelson a-yont the salt sea.

cutters, they've ta'en my laddie frae me.

Andantino Spiritoso.

O the wea-ry

O THE snow it melts the soonest when the winds be-gin to

sing; And the corn it ripens fastest when the frosts are setting in; And

when a wo-man tells me that my face she'll soon forget, Be

fore we part, I wad a crown, she's fain to follow 't yet.

From our Attic, 12th November, 1821.

DEAR MISS M'DERMID, We received your note, stating that your brother Willy's version only gave you a distant glimpse of the merits which you justly supposed were latent to you in the Adventus. As it is quite right that the ladies should enjoy the joke as well as the learned, we wrote off to the Corker, who has dedicated his translation to you. You must come up to-morrow evening to your cookies and tea, and you shall see the first of it. Yours affectionately,

C. N.



(Translated from my own original by myself.)


[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

(1) The Plectrum is admitted to have been a sort of hook used by the ancients (who had not at that time learned the use of their fingers), for twanging their stringed instruments,—a mode of performance, called by our more accomplished violinists," Playing Pizzicato."

(2) Another instance of modern improvements, is the use of steam. To think that it was reserved for modern times to find out the use of fingers and hot-water! The latter discovery has introduced, and is introducing, great changes in all the departments of mechanics-in language among the rest. On board a steamer, instead of saying "Up with the main-sail!" the cry is, "On with the steam!" In like manner, instead of "sailing on a point," we must say 66 steaming."

(3) Dunleary was afterwards called Kingstown. George the Fourth stood sponsor at the ceremony.

(4) Volare Æquore cannot be translated in English. In Irish it signifies uti supra. (5) Blue coats were worn in honour of his Majesty's expected arrival.


Like hungry, disappointed Whigs,
In vain for places praying;
Like starving, desperate, gambling prigs
Losing each bet they're laying;
Like such, were all the doleful people—
Like them, the female sex did weep all,
When from their sight, they from the

Saw George their King astraying.


About two hundred Irish lads,

Were standing on Howth height, ma'am, Whose heart sufficiently it glads,

Far off to see the sight, ma'am, Of all the frigates, yachts, and steamers, And royal standards, flags, and streamers, About the King-They were not dreamers

That he'd be there that night, ma'am.


But when they saw, that to their town,
The Royal Navigator
Approach'd-And when all bearing down
Came boat, sloop, ship, first-rater—
Lord! what a row the fellows raised!
And how his Majesty they praised!
The shout the very shores amazed!
No King e'er caused a greater.


At length with fav'ring steam and gale, (6)
The Lightning safe did steer in;
The crowd the Royal Ensign hail,—
Each bright eye bore a tear in
Token of joy! The foremost ranks
Slid down a gangway from the banks:
With silk they carpeted the planks—

Could I write melodies like Moore,
Or ballads like Sir Walter,

Or any such great poet, sure
My strain should be no halter.
I'd sing a song without a blunder,
Should make posterity all wonder,
And George's praise should sound like

Before my voice should faulter!


But since poor I am not the least
Like them, a wight rhetorical,
My reader's precious time to waste
With Blarney a damn'd bore I call.
But yet I needn't hold my tongue,
I'll tell how round the King they hung,
Although this story be not sung
In language metaphorical.


Our gracious King to all the crowd
His willing hand extended,
And even the poorest Pat felt proud,
So much he condescended.

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

Mounting the carriage steps with grace, "My friends," he cried, "I thank ye!"The coachman takes his reins and says,

"My tits soon home shall spank ye."Then came the horsemen on with pride, Some of them their own chargers ride, While some paid half a crown a-side, And some had but a donkey. 18.

The crowd increased as they went on, Because their hearts were loyal; They ran so fast their breath was gone,

They scarce could speak for joy all. But of their great politeness judge, When they came to the Porter's Lodge, They not one other step would budge, Because the grounds were royal. 19.

But when the King cried " Come along, My friends, pray don't be frighted;" No sooner said than all the throng

Rush'd on to where he lighted.
Again, at stepping on the ground,
He shook the hands of all around,
And made their hearts with joy rebound,
When he with face delighted

Exclaimed, "My soul is glad to day,
My own dear Irish nation;

I love you more than I can say,
So great my agitation.

I've loved you always-man and boy-
And here I'm come, and will employ,
To drink your health, without alloy,
Of whisky a libation.".


Thus said the King, and then the stair
He royally ascended.

God save the King! through all the air,
With four times four was blended!
This being all I had to say,
About this memorable day,
Contentedly my pen I lay
Down-for my tale is ended.

TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH, ESQ. But as you tell me Miss M'Dermid Delightfully can sing, Kit, And has a voice like any mermaid,

I'm willing such to think it. Ask her to find a tune, whose nature May suit my ditty, and then say to her, While I've a bumper of the crature, To her and you I'll drink it.

(6) I don't remember whether I meant Ignis in the original, to signify “The Lightning," which was formerly the name of the steam-packet, which brought the King, (now the Royal George the Fourth,) or the fire which boiled the water, which made the steam which made her go. The fact is, I was engaged at the time in the two occupations of writing about George the Fourth, and drinking his health; and my aunt tells me, I never can do two things clearly at once. I never chuse to alter what my muse inspired; and, therefore, to be safe, I have preserved both meanings in my translation.

[blocks in formation]

We have often resolved to call the attention of our Scottish readers to a very interesting subject, no less than the state caparison of the metropolis. In shewing, however, the nakedness of the capital, we have no insidious design of supplicating charity in behalf of " the good town," for it possesses funds abundantly adequate to do all that we would recommend, namely, to place the magistracy on a proper metropolitan footing. But to the point, for it is not our humour to deal in long prefaces.

On the 2d of September, our Magistrates were chosen, and the event was celebrated in the evening, (in the great room of the Waterloo Tavern,) at a sumptuous dinner. The enter tainment was highly creditable to our friend Charlie, though he took a little longer time in setting down the ices of the desert than he should have done. We could have dispensed with the ceremony of having every dish for two hundred guests set upon the table by his own particular hands, even although it was intended to mark his patriotic and profound respect for the company.

But the great charm of the evening was the singular good sense, urbanity, and taste of Mr Arbuthnot (now chosen a second time Lord Provost,) in the short speeches with which he introduced the different standing toasts. We were exceedingly delighted at the felicity with which he pointed out the peculiar virtues and merits of the individuals who had claims on the applauses of their country, and the skilful tact with which he avoided every thing that might have impaired the harmony of the company, while he firmly and decidedly maintained the political partialities of our own friends. We were also particularly gratified by the unaffected manner in which the two sons of the late Chief Baron thanked the company for the distinction with which their father's memory and their family were regarded by the citizens of Edinburgh. It is impossible indeed to deny the possession of great talents and many virtues to a family who have so long held the most distinguished place in the public affections of their native town. Altogether, the entertainment of the evening was of a superior kind, and worthy in every

respect of a metropolis that boasts of being one of the most enlightened in Europe.

It was, however, to be regretted that such a civic festival should have been held in a tavern; and we heard it justly observed, that the Great Hall of the Parliament House is the proper place for the banquets of the Scottish metropolis. Occasions of this kind ought to be rendered contributory to the fostering of national feelings; even national prejudices should be cherished at such solemnities, and it is on this account that the Parliament House should have been the scene of the city feast. The many ennobling sentiments associated with the venerable aspect of the Hall, the recollections of history, and the hallowing of the public principle that would naturally be produced by the genius of the place, all combine as so many reasons to make us wish that the Magistrates would hold their annual festival in that fine monument of the ancient_independence of Scotland; and we hope that hereafter this will be duly considered. What other place, indeed, can be so appropriate for the celebration of those Scottish remembrances, which are necessarily recalled at a meeting calculated, both by the occasion and the guests, to partake in some respect of the august character of a tribunal? For public banquets, especially as they are conducted in this island, are analogous to the distribution of rewards at the Olympic Games of antiquity-at them, the statesman and the hero are singled out and shewn forth, adorned with their merits, and by the measure of applause bestowed at the mention of their names, they are enabled to appreciate the estimation, in which their characters are held among their fellow countrymen.

But the bad taste of the corporation of Edinburgh is not confined to holding their banquets in a tavern. The appointments of the magistracy are all equally mean. While many of the second rate towns, both in England and Ireland, have splendid establishments for their mayors, all the exhibition of the Lord Provost of the capital of Scotland consists of a marrowless pair of paltry gilded lamps before the door of his private residence in Charlotte Square. It is

« AnkstesnisTęsti »