Lyons_.
The account is balanced--the bill drawn out,--
The debit and credit all right, no doubt--
The Rector rolling in wealth and state,
Owes to his Curate six pound eight;
The Curate, that _least_ well-fed of men,
Owes to his Rector seven pound ten,
Which maketh the balance clearly due
From Curate to Rector, one pound two.
Ah balance, on earth unfair, uneven!
But sure to be all set right in heaven,
Where bills like these will be checkt, some day,
And the balance settled the other way:
Where Lyons the curate's hard-wrung sum
Will back to his shade with interest come;
And Marcus, the rector, deep may rue
This tot, in his favor, of one pound two.
PADDY'S METAMORPHOSIS.
1833.
About fifty years since, in the days of our daddies,
That plan was commenced which the wise now applaud,
Of shipping off Ireland's most turbulent Paddies,
As good raw material for _settlers_, abroad.
Some West-India island, whose name I forget,
Was the region then chosen for this scheme so romantic;
And such the success the first colony met,
That a second, soon after, set sail o'er the Atlantic.
Behold them now safe at the long-lookt-for shore,
Sailing in between banks that the Shannon might greet,
And thinking of friends whom, but two years before,
They had sorrowed to lose, but would soon again meet.
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