And, oh, ye sons of Erin, when the coat-tails next are trailing,
Make your weapons on this pattern, think of SAUNDERSON, his bull;
And no mother's son will suffer, though the missiles should come hailing,
If you only use mud-arrows, or shillelaghs made of wool
DEVOUT WISH OF IRISH LANDLORDS FOR MR. BALFOUR.—"May his shadowing never grow less!"
