The World’s Wit and Humor: An Encyclopedia in 15 Volumes. 1906.
Charles Graham Halpine (18291868)Irish Astronomy
O’R
Whin Ireland was a nation,
But poachin’ was his heart’s delight
And constant occupation.
He had an ould militia gun,
And sartin sure his aim was;
He gave the keepers many a run,
And wouldn’t mind the game laws.
O’Ryan’s little houldin’,
And, as the saint felt wake and dhry,
He thought he’d enther bould in.
“O’Ryan,” says the saint, “avick!
To praich at Thurles I’m goin’;
So let me have a rasher quick
And a dhrop of Innishowen.”
While betther is to spare, sir,
But here’s a jug of mountain dew,
And there’s a rattlin’ hare, sir.”
St. Pathrick he looked mighty sweet,
And says he, “Good luck attind you,
And when you’re in your windin’ sheet,
It’s up to heaven I’ll sind you.”
“Them tidin’s is thransportin’,
But may I ax your saintship if
There’s any kind of sportin’?”
St. Pathrick said, “A Lion’s there,
Two Bears, a Bull, and Cancer”—
“Bedad,” says Mick, “the huntin’s rare;
St. Pathrick, I’m your man, sir.”
For fear I’d tire your patience,
You’ll see O’Ryan any night
Amid the constellations.
And Venus follows in his track
Till Mars grows jealous raally,
But, faith, he fears the Irish knack
Of handling the shillaly.