114 LIFE IN IRELAND 



The peace I made with Buonaparte 



Ne'er cost me half the trouble, 

 As that made here, by Irish art — 



Through whiskey I see double. 



There is no luck about the house 



^^'hen I am far away ; 

 E'en the new drop is out of use, 



And Jack Ketch out of pay. 



Thy velvet cap 's moth-eaten grown ; 



The noble Bridge- street Gang 

 No hungry pedlars now beat down, 



Nor shop-boys strive to hang. 



But, thanks to G — GE, my time is short ; 



Once more with joy I '11 hail ye, 

 With helpless victims fill your court 



And bar at the Old Bailey. 



Tell B — WN to brush the darbys clean, 



The Doctor 's coming o'er ; 

 The cells well peopled shall be seen 



With friends from Ireland's shore. 



I 've got some hundreds on my list. 



All libellers so strong, 

 The half of which transport at least. 



No matter right or wrong. 



The soldiers all shall hew and hack ; 



Success I '11 drink, with glee, 

 To Newgate's drop — to friend Black Jack — 



To G — GE the F — th, and me. 



S — D TH. 



'The thing is political,' said Brian, 'and may be 

 good for something, so I '11 e'en have it published, in 

 order that the right owner may recover his property.' 



Sir Shawn now arrived, and taking his friend by the 



