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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"


There roasting by inches, dry, fevered, and faint,
Having drunk all the cream you so civilly laid, off,
He dies of as charming a liver complaint
As ever sleek person could wish a pie made of.
Besides, only think, my dear one of Sixteen,
What an emblem this bird, for the epicure's use meant.
Presents of the mode in which Ireland has been
Made a tid-bit for yours and your brethren's amusement:
Tied down to the stake, while her limbs, as they quiver,
A slow fire of tyranny wastes by degrees--
No wonder disease should have swelled up her liver,
No wonder you, Gourmands, should love her disease.

[1] The only way, Monsieur Ude assures us, to get rid of the oil so
objectionable in this fish.
[2] A liver complaint. The process by which the livers of geese are
enlarged for the famous _Pates de foie d'oie_.



IRISH ANTIQUITIES.

According to some learned opinions
The Irish once were Carthaginians;
But trusting to more late descriptions
I'd rather say they were Egyptians.
My reason's this:--the Priests of Isis,
When forth they marched in long array,
Employed, 'mong other grave devices,
A Sacred Ass to lead the way;
And still the antiquarian traces
'Mong Irish Lords this Pagan plan,
For still in all religious cases
They put Lord Roden in the van.


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