I grup him by the shoulther-strap-sez I to him:—'Look here,
There's rumours av conspiracy an' fire an' rape an' ruin,
Expaytiate upon ut, man—fwhat are the Oirish doin'?
You break your Colonels ' hearts out here, you turn your Captains grey,
You're breakin' heads in Doblin for O'Brien and Tay Pay,
You're only safe in action or Kilmainham or the Clink,
But fwhat's this latest devilment av Mister Julup Sink?'
Mulvaney tuk the paper, an' he hild ut to his eyes,
An' read about battalions all languishin' to rise,
He shuk the black dudeen out on the armpit av his fist,
'The naygur-man is right', sez he. 'By God, we wud assist!
If only Mister Julup, wid his di'monds in his hat,
Wud pass the time av day forninst the "rebils" at Cherat,
There's rookies from Blackwaterton, an' toughs from Cullyhanna,
Wud trate His Royal Highnuss in a most amazin' manner.
An av there come an accident by reason av their fun,
An' av his head and joolry was both pulled off in one,
The bhoys wud steal a baggage-thrain, an' bribe a gyard to take
The corpse on to Jullundur for the Connaughts there to wake.
But av they didn't waste him, an' the Connaughts let him be,
The Leinsters at Calcutta are conshumin' for a shpree,
They'd wet him in the Hugli an' they'd dhry him in the Strand.
For they' d run him wid their terriers through his patrimonial land.
But fwhat's the good av bukhin' ? Av he wants to see us rise
Let him write to Bobbs Bahadur for a fortnight's field–supplies,
An' ship a handy army av tin thousand to Bombay—
Thin call the Oirish rigiments—there's six av us—his way.
Wud we come? Ay, Jumpin' Moses, we wud so an' niver fear ut—
The Doblins an' the Munsters, an' the Kickin' Harse' from Meerut—
The Aigle an' the Elephint,' the Harrp an' Maple leaves
Wud start a Noah's Arrk among his Continintal thieves.
We'd work the job wid illigance, an' sentimint an' taste,
For the di'monds on his hat-band an' the im'ralds round his waist.
l've seen his father's porthrait—av the son is dhressed to suit,
Bcgad, he's simply dhrippin' wid onmitigated loot!
Rise! Faith, we'd rise to Hiven an' we'd smash the guard-gate in
For the half av fwhat he carries on his Russia-leather skin!
Four million pounds in sov'reigns—it wud strike a woman dumb—
Betune six Oirish Regiments! Pershuade the man to come!'
* * * *
Mulvaney dhropped the paper an' he dhropped the laughin' too,
An' black as rain on Malin Head the features av him grew;
The bugles in the barrick-square were blowin' for parade,
He slipt into his 'coutrements an', swearin' cold, he said:
'l take no thought for Julup, I cud mash him in my fist,
But I'd like to catch the renegade who said that we'd assist;
Av I met the two tomorrow, I wud put the naygur by,
But I'd rip the livin' hide off from the swine that tould that lie!'