For the Tories have won, and the party is gone
that he ruled with his counsel and swayed,
And there's no one cares that for the suffrage of Pat
or will stoop to solicit his aid:
So the sons of the Gael have determined to sail
for the regions serene of the West,
Where a Balfour's police from their bludgeoning cease,
and the Patriot weary may rest!
'Tis in Congress he'll find the intelligent mind
which is able to probe to the roots
The malignant intrigue that endangers the League,
and M'Carthy's and Dillon's disputes,—
Which is sure to postpone all affairs of its own
and to list to Tim Healy intent
When he takes up the tale of Compulsory Sale,
or complete abolition of rent.
There'll be wigs on the green (as in No. 15)
and the usual trailing of coats,
For I happen to know Mr Redmond will go,
—by a separate service of boats:—
And O'Brien will show, while he jumps on his foe
and his blood fratricidally sheds,
That the Union of Hearts of necessity starts
from a general breaking of heads.
The Hibernian M.P.s are afloat on the seas,
the debates of the West to control,
And the thought of their scheme's a magnificent dream
which may calm our disconsolate soul:
For if ever the Yanks should return them with thanks
and consider their presence a bore,
We have plenty of cranks in the Radical ranks,
and can always supply them with more!
MULLIGAN ON THE AUSTRIAN PARLIAMENT
It was a gallant Irishman, and thus I heard him sing—
"To legislate at Westminster's a dull decorous thing:
But O in merry Austria's deliberative hall,
Bedad, the fun and divilment is simply kolossàl!
"No base procedure rules restrain those wild untutored Czechs,
They have no vile formalities the patriot's soul to vex:
While we must catch the Speaker's eye before a word is said,
In free and happy Austria they blacken it instead.
"Cold water oft on me to throw is Mr Gully's whim,
But Dr Abrahamovitch has buckets thrown on him:
Quite pleasant and familiar are their dealings with the Chair—
We 'pull' sometimes the Speaker's 'leg'—they always pull his hair!
"When, for my own metropolis, I quit this formal scene,
And Ireland's native Parliament shall sit in College-green,
To keep the fun alive and fresh we'll bring a Czech or two
(The Czechs but not the Balances that Mr Gladstone knew):
"We'll have no dictatorial rule—no Peels or Gullys there—
But Dr Abrahamovitch shall fill the Speaker's chair:
'Tis he shall guide by gentle arts our legislative aims,
While Mr Dillon tweaks his nose and Healy calls him names."