THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 X 
 
 /? 

 
 RECITATIONS, 
 
 EPICS, EPISTLES, 
 
 LYRICS AND POEMS, 
 
 HUMOROUS AND PATHETIC. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, 
 
 PATRICK 
 
 (SHANDY MAGUIKE. ) 
 
 FI RST EDITION. 
 
 "I'd rather know the lines I penned 
 Made one hour pass more cheerily. 
 More lightly and less wearily, 
 Than know that readers drearily 
 
 Went blubbering on from end to end." 
 
 C. G. Halpine. 
 
 OSWEGO, N. Y. : 
 
 R, J. OUPHAUT, BOOK PRINTER AND STATIONER.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 18S6, 
 
 By PATRICK FENNELL, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
 
 TO THE 
 
 BROTHERHOOD OP LOCOMOTIVE ENGINEERS, 
 
 AN ORGANIZATION MUNIFICENT IN CHARITY, 
 ADHERENT TO PRINCIPLES, 
 
 its Pembers^aithf ul to guty and Htnsctf teh in gent, 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE FOLLOWING PAGES 
 
 ARE FRATERNALLY DEDICATED, 
 
 BY ONE WHO IS 
 PROUD TO BE OF THEIR NUMBER. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 762914
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting to the public the following collection 
 of verses dignified by my friends with the title of 
 poems I conform to the wishes of many corres 
 pondents of mine, scattered over various sections of 
 the country. It is needless for me to say that I 
 claim no merit whatever for them. The major part 
 of them were written to gratify my own whims, as 
 the various subjects would present themselves to 
 me ; and they mirror my mind at the time of their 
 composition. 
 
 My object in writing a preface is to explain the 
 tone of several articles, which have appeared in the 
 columns of the Engineer s Monthly Journal, to 
 readers who were acquainted with my social position 
 at the time of their publication, and who have yet 
 to learn why I assumed the character I did. In 
 May, 1873, there were several members of the 
 Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers assembled in 
 the room of Sub-division No. 152, located at Oswego, 
 N. Y., waiting for the time to arrive to commence 
 the proceedings. The Journals for April were being 
 distributed, and many complaints were made that 
 the columns were full of letters from engineers'
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 wives. One bachelor in our midst, on the shady 
 side of forty, said he wished he were a Benedict and 
 he would insist on his wife joining the army of con 
 tributors. After considerable criticism, carried on 
 in a carping mood, I was requested to take the matter 
 up, in behalf of Division 152, and solicit wives for 
 those who were lacking them, so we could add our 
 quota to those who were writing oVer the signatures 
 of "Wife of an Engineer of Division So and So." 
 I took the hint and wrote the verses headed : " A 
 Member of One-Fifty-Two," and adopted a nom de 
 plume. During the time I remained incognito, I 
 not only enjoyed fun myself, but contributed to the 
 enjoyment of all who were in the secret, and many 
 a hearty laugh we had at the numerous enquiries 
 made to know " who is Shandy Maguire ? " After 
 about two years the secret was discovered, but not 
 before the nom de plume had attained notoriety from 
 Manitoba to the Gulf of Mexico, and from the At 
 lantic to the Pacific, amongst the railroad fraternity. 
 This I say without the slightest intention of boasting. 
 If I cannot claim merit for my productions, I 
 certainly can claim that a great many of them were 
 constructed under very novel circumstances ; planned 
 in the cab of a locomotive, many of them written by 
 the flickering light of the gauge-lamp, or at an open 
 furnace door, or when
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 ' Stalled in huge snow drifts as high as the stack " 
 
 waiting for the shovellers to dig us out, meditated 
 or final words jostled out, passing over rough joints, 
 at a" rate of speed of sixty miles an hour. 
 
 Those who have read my contributions to the 
 Engineer 's Journal will find them in the following 
 pages in the order in which they appeared in that 
 valuable publication. They are interspersed with 
 others, in as near the same order in which they were 
 written as a hasty 'compilatio'n would permit, and the 
 whole are now launched forth to public view " with 
 all their imperfections on their head." 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 MEMORIES OF YOUTH. 
 
 In a listless mood reclining 1 , 
 
 On the flower-spangled heather, 
 Where the clover-scented breezes 
 
 Kissed my forehead with their balm, 
 There a maiden sat beside me, 
 
 Both our hearts entwined tog-ether, 
 As we lingered in the gloaming 
 
 Of that evening's summer calm. 
 
 Down the west the sun descended. 
 
 And athwart the sky the streamers 
 Flashed in glorious golden splendor, 
 
 On that eve of long ago ; 
 There delighted, filled with rapture. 
 
 Like a pair of angel dreamers, 
 We enjoyed the scene of grandeur. 
 
 And the day-God's parting glow. 
 
 Up the east fair Luna floated, 
 
 Through the ambient air serenely, 
 And the stars began to twinkle 
 
 In the distant dome of night ; 
 With intoxicated rapture 
 
 I beheld my lover queenly, 
 As her eyes were growing humid 
 
 With such visions of delight.
 
 10 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 We were young 1 . No cloud of sadness 
 
 Dimmed the morning- hopes we cherished, 
 Not a wave swept our horizon 
 
 That could make our hearts despond ; 
 And our love, as pure and holy 
 
 As ere cloistered virgins' nourished, 
 Made us happy and contented 
 
 In its idolizing- bond. 
 
 Ere the moment came for parting 
 
 From our Eden, she consented 
 To entwine her life's young- fancies 
 
 With the boyish hope of mine ; 
 With embraces chaste and fervid, 
 
 Our betrothal was cemented, 
 As pressed closely to my bosom 
 
 She did fearlessly recline. 
 
 Many years in Time's great ocean 
 
 Have been steadily increasing 
 Since we drifted from the vista 
 
 Of our early, youthful bloom ; 
 But the love implanted truly, 
 
 Will exist through life unceasing, 
 And o'er death will rise triumphant, 
 
 To survive beyond the tomb.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 11 
 
 A MEMBER OF "ONE-FIFTY-TWO." 
 
 Messrs. Wilson and Greene : I'm an old country 
 
 chap, 
 From the soles of my boots to my greasy old 
 
 cap; 
 
 I am rough and unlettered, untutored in mind, 
 Yet, a good-hearted fellow as ever you'll find. 
 I know ev'ry daughter and son of my mother, 
 Yet thousands on thousands address me as 
 
 "Brother;" 
 
 The reason I'll tell confidential to you : 
 Because I'm a member of One-Fifty-Two. 
 
 So much for myself, now a word for the boys 
 The fifty brave fellows each comp'ny employs ; 
 Officials have boasted no better are found, 
 To do their whole duty the universe round. 
 And dear Mr. Wilson, if e're you come o'er 
 To our beautiful town on Ontario's shore, 
 Ther's a cead millie failthe* awaiting- for you 
 From all of the members of One- Fifty-Two. 
 
 I notice each month as the Journal appears, 
 Affectionate letters which melt me to tears, 
 From those interested in all of our lives, 
 (God bless them, the darlings ! ) the engineers' 
 wives. 
 
 *A hundred thousand welcomes.
 
 12 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Oh ! lucky "plug-pullers" how bless'd is your lot, 
 Returning- at night to your own little cot, 
 To see the bright smiles there awaiting on you. 
 And forty wives wanting in One-Fifty-Two. 
 
 Now beautiful readers, a word in your ear, 
 It comes from a heart that is true and sincere ; 
 A bachelor's life for myself has no charms, 
 I'll change for a pair of affectionate arms. 
 And, faith ! I will love her whoever she'll be 
 She'll never regret being wedded to me 
 Whoever shall wish a good husband to boast, 
 May drop me a line by return of the post. 
 
 I wish -a long life to the B. of L. E., 
 If true to our motto long lived we shall be ; 
 In union is strength, if united we stand, 
 We'll be recognized as a power in the land. 
 The prayers of the widows and orphans ascend 
 To Heaven, to bless us, for proving their friend 
 Reward we'll receive, it awaits us in store, 
 When brakes are set down on eternity's shore.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 13 
 
 A LETTER IN VERSE. 
 
 Messrs. Wilson and Greene : 'Tis the urgent 
 
 desire 
 
 Of your ardent admirer, named Shandy Maguir e, 
 To be granted a pass in the Journal, if so, 
 I will whistle off brakes, as aboard I do go. 
 I hope a reward you'll receive for the time 
 You squander, correcting- this doggerel rhyme ; 
 Then all of my critics may go to the deuce, 
 I care not a fig 1 for their caustic abuse. 
 
 One critic I love as I wrote in July 
 The clear azure depths of a bonnie bright eye, 
 To send through my soul an affectionate dart, 
 And soothe with its glances my whimsical heart. 
 I know of a fair one as bright as the dawn, 
 With footsteps as light as a wood-nymph or fawn . 
 She prays for my weal ev'ry morning and night, 
 And welcomes me home with sincerest delight. 
 
 Experience has taught on the railroad of life 
 The time-card to run by's a virtuous wife. 
 The grades may be heavy and tedious to climb, 
 Her precepts are certain to keep us on time. 
 The curves may be short, the embankments be 
 
 high, 
 Her prayers for our safety reaches the sky,
 
 14 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 They rise from a heart of affectionate love, 
 To the throne of the Master Mechanic above ! 
 
 I'll state to the brothers all over the land, 
 Though young-, our Division up bravely can 
 
 stand ; 
 
 Financially truly, fraternally too, 
 Are virtues prevailing- in One-Fifty-Two. 
 And now the "salt pointers" just wheel into line, 
 They fling- out the banner of One-Sixty-Nine ; 
 Success may attend them and g-uide them aright, 
 Last star, though not least, of our galaxy bright. 
 
 Success to our Brotherhood, flashing on high, 
 The strongest which floats 'neath Columbia's 
 
 sky; 
 
 It guards us securely with counsels sincere, 
 And offers protection to each engineer. 
 Oh ! far in the future, sincerely I pray, 
 Be glory around it as bright as to-day. 
 Lord answer my prayer is the urgent desire 
 Of one of its members called Shandy Maguire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 15 
 
 TO THE LOCAL EDITOR OF THE MORNING 
 HERALD. 
 
 (MR. JAMES CRONLEY.) 
 
 Dear Jim, since Pete Blair has been captured at 
 last, 
 
 And took to his bosom a wife, 
 Sincerely to make all amends for the past, 
 
 In penance the rest of his life. 
 Remember, 'tis time that yourself should forsake 
 
 The tricks of the bachelor clan, 
 By towing- some girl rigirt into your wake, 
 
 And steering- through life like a man. 
 
 Consider how happy your pipe you can smoke, 
 
 As both of you sit by the fire ; 
 How sweetly she'll laug-h and ne'er think that 
 you joke, 
 
 When swearing she's all you admire ! 
 She'll list to the yarns you'll truthfully spin, 
 
 Of desolate days t you have known, 
 As nobly you steered through the breakers of sin, 
 
 Unloved through this world and alone ! 
 
 In a few fleeting years, an old hulk you will be, 
 
 Without either rig-ging or spars ; 
 You will roll in the trough of a bachelor sea, 
 
 The same as all other old tars ;
 
 16 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And if married, you'll coast near those spice- 
 laden vales, 
 
 Where bright orange blossoms are seen, 
 With cool zephyrs to sing 1 in your sweet-scented 
 
 sails, 
 In Benedict waters serene ! 
 
 Oh ! Jim, think of that ! You are bashful I know, 
 
 And rather inclined to despair ; 
 Up courage ! my boy, and a wife-hunting- go, 
 
 Indeed, you are as handsome as Blair ! 
 But if you should fail in your cruise for a wife 
 
 Don't ever sit down and repine ; 
 For, sooner than see you run single throuh life, 
 
 Old pard ! get instructions from mine ! 
 
 A REPLY TO SALSIE. 
 
 Ah, Salsie, my darling- ! I've lately been dreaming 
 That you are the g-irl whom I've looked for so 
 
 long-; 
 You stole to my bosom like morning's first 
 
 beaming, 
 
 And won this response to your exquisite song- 
 I find in that answer you sent to my ditty, 
 Of all your admirers you love me the most
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 17 
 
 I'm sure you are handsome, truehearted, and 
 witty, 
 
 Inferred from your lines "by return of the 
 post." 
 
 Now "Salsie" that name I will change if no 
 falter 
 
 Will come from yourself, my affectionate 'gal' 
 Henceforth, till we meet the good priest at the 
 altar, 
 
 I'll call you the brief little pet name of "Sal." 
 "Make haste to the wedding" your motto must 
 be, love, 
 
 Long courtships are foolish when states inter 
 vene ; 
 
 I'm anxious your sweet smiling features to see, 
 love, 
 
 I burn from my boots to my greasy caubeen. 
 
 But Sal, here's a secret I'll whisper to you, love, 
 
 There is not a dollar of cash in my purse, 
 I had a few dozen, banks bursted, my true love, 
 
 The time of the panic, I give it my curse. 
 And both of my eyes .are fast fading from weep 
 ing, 
 
 To think I'm as poor as a hungry church 
 mouse ; 
 
 My trouble, dear Sal, whether waking or sleep 
 ing 
 
 2
 
 18 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Is have you some traps till we go "keeping' 
 house?" 
 
 I've a stove, which was used many years by my 
 mother, 
 
 A wood burner, Sal, with a fearful exhaust ; 
 Its nozzles I'll open or else it will smother, 
 
 And wood is so dear we must look to the cost. 
 A bedstead and bed, love, a pail and a ladle ; 
 . A few earthen dishes, and coffee pot, too ; 
 And, darling- ! I've also the family cradle, 
 
 As useful to-day as when first it was new. 
 
 A heart that loves work, and two hands to 
 assist, love, 
 
 Beside what I've mentioned above in detail, 
 If you have the rest, then I pray don't desist, 
 love, 
 
 Until under color's of wedlock we sail. 
 My brothers all say in our noble Division, 
 
 Considering- your wishes for One- Fifty-Two, 
 They'll vote a donation, make ample provision, 
 
 To testify all their g-ood feeling-s for you. 
 
 And now in conclusion, my true love eternal 
 I send to you Sal, beloved of my life, 
 
 Soon all my dear brothers can read in the Journal 
 Another who'll sig-n herself : " Engineer's 
 wife."
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 19 
 
 They'll know, after reading-, you're really con 
 tented, 
 They never need pause your dear name to 
 
 enquire, 
 
 For, darling-, you'll tell them you never repented 
 The day you became Mrs. Shandy Mag-uire. 
 
 THE DYING PEASANT. 
 
 Old wife, come sit beside me now, 
 
 For I can scarcely see 
 The sadness stamped upon your brow, 
 
 Nor mingle tears with thee. 
 The fount is dried, the lids are seared 
 
 From keen and constant pain, 
 The worst has come, what oft I feared, 
 
 Though seldom did complain. 
 
 The moments of my life are brief, 
 
 Its tide is ebbing- fast, 
 And death will quickly bring relief, 
 
 From all my ills at last. 
 But you will have to linger on, 
 
 Within this vale of woe, 
 Alone, dear wife, when I am g'one, 
 
 For God has willed it so.
 
 20 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I now am bless'd with inward gaze, 
 
 And thing-s long passed I spy ; 
 For death dispels the mental haze, 
 
 Obscuring times gone by. 
 I now behold the little cot, 
 
 Beside the winding stream, 
 Where first my eyes beheld you, love, 
 
 Like angels in a dream. 
 
 Oh, we were young and happy then, 
 
 And knew not what was care, 
 Our little world was bounded by 
 
 That valley bright and fair ; 
 The humble church where we were wed, 
 
 Before me seems to glide, 
 Where to the altar rail I led, 
 
 You, my own blooming bride. 
 
 For years I tilled the fruitful sod, 
 
 And all our labors throve, 
 In thanks we turned our hearts to God, 
 
 And render'd Him our love. 
 Content and plentjr were our share 
 
 Beside the river Nore, 
 Good health, true friends, and prospects fair, 
 
 Could mortals ask for more ?
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 21 
 
 The sky-lark's song- to matins called 
 
 Our dear domestic band, 
 Each heart, with piety enthralPd, 
 
 Sang- praises pure and grand. 
 The thrush and linnet told when noon 
 
 Had come within the glade ; 
 The nightingales, in jo3 T ous tune, 
 
 Made glad the evening- shade. 
 
 Thus seasons passed, dear wife, and we 
 
 Ne'er felt the march of time. 
 Each day we labored faithfully, 
 
 In youth's contented prime. 
 We garnered in each fruitful crop, 
 
 Our kind Creator sent, 
 And found no trouble saving- up 
 
 Our greedy landlord's rent. 
 
 So, wife, the years moved on apace, 
 
 Our efforts seemed to thrive, 
 And happiness beamed from each face 
 
 Within that cozy hive ; 
 Until the famine years came on 
 
 And scattered death around, 
 Their baneful touch was laid upon 
 
 The crops within the ground.
 
 22 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Our frugal savings helped to stay 
 
 The wolf without the door ; 
 But constant drain soon stole away 
 
 Our little treasured store. 
 The heartless tramp of marching- men, 
 
 Smote painful on our ears, 
 They came to drive us from the glen 
 
 That sheltered us for years. 
 
 Oh, God ! how hard to leave the spot 
 
 We labored in so long, 
 To see the little vine-clad cot, 
 
 Wherein we reared our young 
 Pulled down to satisfy the greed 
 
 Of him who owned the soil, 
 Who scorned us in such direful need, 
 
 Unrecompensed our toil. 
 
 We gathered close our little band 
 
 And took a last farewell, 
 Of our afflicted, native land, 
 
 No longer there to dwell. 
 The tendrils of our hearts which twined 
 
 Around our little home, 
 Were rudely plucked by hands unkind, 
 
 And we from there did roam.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 23 
 
 Beneath Atlantic's restless waves, 
 
 Our tender offspring 1 sleep, 
 Unmarked the spot, wherein their graves, 
 
 Are 'neath the briny deep. 
 They roll with many victims more 
 
 Of landlord's cruel work, 
 All driven from their native shore, 
 
 But never reached New York. 
 
 The climate here is hard to bear, 
 
 Though plenty can be found, 
 By those inured to biting air, 
 
 When wintry days come round. 
 We always had good friends and true, 
 
 To help us in our need, 
 They'll prove the same, dear wife, to you, 
 
 When from this earth I'm freed. 
 
 Dear Mary, place your hand in mine, 
 
 I'm young and strong once more, 
 I'll lead you back in youthful prime, 
 
 Beside the sparkling Nore ; 
 We'll hear the linnet's tuneful notes, 
 
 The sky-lark's merry song, 
 Our Irish birds, whose joyous throats, 
 
 Make music all day long.
 
 24 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Ah ! here's our little vine-clad cot, 
 
 Where trellised flowers bloom, 
 And here's the dear, delightful spot, 
 
 I stood a happy groom. 
 But where are our three children, dear, 
 
 Who made our lives so gay ? 
 Alas ! I cannot find them here ; 
 
 Good wife, they're out at play. 
 
 They're calling me to join their pranks. 
 
 I'll leave you for awhile, 
 To sport with them on primrose banks, 
 
 In this our native isle. 
 A smile upon his features stole, 
 
 His days of life were o'er, 
 For angels took his sinless soul, 
 
 Where parting is no more. 
 
 TO THE MEMBERS OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF 
 
 LOCOMOTIVE ENGINEERS. 
 Sobriety stands as our motto the first, 
 
 And ever by us must be cherished ; 
 Remember,dear brothers, intemperanceiscursed, 
 
 And thousands, by drinking, have perished. 
 Touch it not taste it not handle not then 
 
 The cause of much sadness and weeping, . 
 But true to our motto, we'll prove ourselves men, 
 
 And future rewards w r e']l be reaping.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 25 
 
 Sobriety, beautiful gem of my soul ! 
 
 While life has a thought worth possessing, 
 I'll prize thee, and keep thee within my control, 
 
 And give thee my fondest caressing ; 
 I'll shield thee from all that tempestuous crew 
 
 In Alcohol's stormy dominions ; . 
 I'll bear thee aloft through the firmament's blue 
 
 When departing on fetterless pinions. 
 
 Dear brothers, a glance will suffice to discern 
 
 The wrecks on life's river now sailing, 
 Swept on by the tide to that mournful bourne, 
 
 Companioned by weeping and wailing. 
 So touch not the cup that is garnished with crime, 
 
 The cause of wide-spread desolation ; 
 Although it may beckon with gestures sublime, 
 
 Concealed in its depths there's damnation. 
 
 Aloft then our banner we'll wave to the sky, 
 
 And rally around it like true men ; 
 The public pays tribute to those who can die 
 
 When sober, on duty, like you men. 
 Our Brotherhood, then will survive ev'ry shock, 
 
 Erected on such a foundation, 
 And stand through the future, its base on that 
 rock, 
 
 And pointing us on to salvation.
 
 26 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO THE AUTHOR OF "OLD TAR'S TWISTERS. 
 
 (MR. JAMES CROXLEY.) 
 
 Dear Jim : My rude, untutor'd quill 
 Cuts many a quaint and curious caper, 
 
 Because I seek its aid, to fill 
 This ample page of foolscap paper. 
 
 Old friend, I've hesitated long- 
 To tell you truly and sincerely, 
 
 In honest lines of simple song 1 , 
 
 I love your "Old Tar's Twisters" dearly. 
 
 Those happy, halcyon days of yore, 
 
 When "Jolly Jack," with flying- colors, 
 In every port could jump ashore, 
 
 His pockets lined with scores of dollars. 
 Alas ! they're fading- fast away ; 
 
 In fact, they've left us altogether, 
 And only God himself can say, 
 
 If ever more we'll meet fair weather. 
 
 Those by-g-one-days, when freig-hts were high, 
 
 And owners all wore smiling faces, 
 When royals proudly swept the sky, 
 
 And shipping-masters would embrace us, 
 To go with Captain " This " or " That," 
 
 Who'd sail at noon, or maybe sooner, 
 Although a meditative rat, 
 
 Would rather starve than join the schooner.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 27 
 
 Indeed, those were the happy days 
 
 They'll many think we write in fable 
 When telling- how we'd bend in praise 
 
 Our knees beneath an owner's table, 
 To masticate a turkey-roast ; 
 
 No epicure could e'er surpass us, 
 When stowing- tiers of quail on toast, 
 
 Or "duff" and New Orleans molasses. 
 
 We kept the weather-side of care, 
 
 We also kept ourselves quite jolly; 
 We clapt a stopper on despair, 
 
 And took a reef in melancholy. 
 A boats'n's nip, or maybe two, 
 
 Would ease all pain and start the chorus ; 
 Then, let the skies be black or blue, 
 
 We were the boys for work before us ! 
 
 But times have chang-ed, and so have we, 
 I caug'ht the flood- tide of reform. 
 
 You also, Jim, forsook the sea, 
 
 And in the sanctum braves the storm. 
 
 But till life's tide shall cease to flow- 
 Till through the pipe the cable started 
 
 To moor us in the watch below 
 We'll ne'er forg-et those days departed.
 
 28 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 A REPLY TO "MOLLIE BAWN." 
 "Mollie Bawn," with delight I did lately peruse 
 The musical lines from your eloquent muse ; 
 I said to myself : " My dear Shandy 'tis wrong- 
 To give no response to that sweet little song- ;" 
 So down in the ink goes my stub of a quill 
 To tell you that I am a bachelor still ; 
 But you and myself on life's course cannot run, 
 Because you replied you just "answered for fun." 
 
 Besides, my dear Mollie, your notions are queer, 
 I don't think you'd wed with a poor engineer ; 
 To come to Oswego you say is too far, 
 Unless I'd be willing to charter a car. 
 Ah ! Mollie, my heart is a fountain of love, 
 And sure as the sunlight is shining above, 
 If you but consented with me to reside, 
 A drawing-room coach I'd have sent for my bride. 
 
 But, Mollie, be serious, 'tis not your desire 
 To ever become Mrs. Shandy Maguire ; 
 Your nom deplumehides you securely and clever, 
 My rollicking brother of throttle and lever. 
 'Tis truth I am telling I'll tell somewhat more, 
 Yourself and myself have met somewhere before. 
 Am I right, Mollie dear? "why of course," 
 
 you'll reply, 
 And I know you're too cute to be caught in a lie.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 29 
 
 Well, "Mollie," a glance retrospective I'll throw, 
 To that heautiful land where the orange trees 
 
 grow ; 
 Where the mocking- bird warbles in carols of 
 
 love, 
 To his mate that responds from the branches 
 
 above. 
 Where the sweetest of flowers ne'er cease in 
 
 their bloom, 
 
 Embalming- the air with delicious perfume ; 
 Where the song-sters, melodious, awoke me at 
 
 dawn, 
 Perhaps it was there we have met, "Mollie 
 
 Bawn." 
 
 If so, those were days that I fain would recall, 
 When the chalice of life had no mixture of gall. 
 Ere the ten-per-cent-off swept the land in dismay, 
 A cruel reduction of hard earned pay 
 Ere the Juggernaut wheels of the panic were 
 
 rolled, 
 
 To crush us by gamblers, too greedy for gold ; 
 Ere the clouds of oppression cast sadness and 
 
 gloom, 
 O'er the men oft obliged to make duty a tomb. 
 
 But the sun of the future, bright hope whispers, 
 
 soon, 
 In splendor will shine, as on midsummer's noon.
 
 30 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 No gamblers, "Mollie," can hoard up a ray, 
 Of the glorious sunlight that brightens our way. 
 Whoever you are, your advice I'll retain, 
 And always endeavor to run the right train. 
 I hope you and I, when life's journey is o'er, 
 Will be told we're "on time" on eternity's shore. 
 
 A WELCOME TO THE "HOUSEHOLD VISITOR." 
 
 The H. V. is welcome, thrice welcome once more, 
 To the homes and the hearts it did visit of yore ; 
 It comes newly dress'd, and glad tidings does 
 
 bring ; 
 'Tis as welcome as birds that arrive with the 
 
 Spring. 
 
 It announces that trade is reviving once more, 
 The white wings of commerce now visit our shore; 
 And last, though not least, the good news it has 
 
 spread, 
 That dear' Doctor Reynolds is living, not dead. 
 
 Ah, doctor, I cried till my heart nearly broke, 
 When I heard you were dead, now I laugh at 
 
 the joke. 
 
 I feared I should wander the rest of my life, 
 All alone, with no hope of becoming your wife. 
 You know that you swore by the angels above,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 31 
 
 No woman but me should be crowned with your 
 
 love ; 
 Tis leap-year, and now my just rights I shall 
 
 claim 
 Come forward and make Mrs. Reynolds my name. 
 
 " Petticoat government " now is the cry, 
 
 For Woodhull and Spottedtail, banners do fly ; 
 
 So, come and I'll train you, respond to my call ; 
 
 Victoria will be elected this Fall. 
 
 She'll give you a place through influence of me ; 
 
 A City Physician no longer you'll be. 
 
 Now marry me, doctor, if not I'm afraid, 
 
 Your darling- will linger and die an old maid. 
 
 Dear editor, speak to the doctor, asthore ! 
 And I'll purchase my house-keeping ware at your 
 
 store ; 
 
 My wall paper, window shades, candies and toys, 
 For our dear little babies, our girls and our boys, 
 I am certain you keep the best stock in the town ; 
 Besides you sell cheapest, your prices are down ; 
 There's one thing deficient to bless you in life, 
 You're just like the doctor in need of a wife.
 
 32 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 A WELCOME TO THE JOURNAL. 
 
 Dear Editor : Here is the Journal at hand, 
 
 For April, freighted with treasures in store, 
 From many good writers all. over the land, 
 
 From Mexico's gulf to Ontario's shore ; 
 From Maine to the far distant Pacific slope 
 
 Contributors many this month can he seen 
 Expressing contentment, new courage, and hope, 
 
 For the trio who're named Arthur, Ingraham 
 and Greene. 
 
 Your pardon, dear Sirs, for presuming to write, 
 
 My Muse she insists unattuned I must sing, 
 The jade is now off in a fanciful flight, 
 
 Although she ne'er tasted the Helicon spring. 
 The fear of the past for our future's success 
 
 Is lost in the sunbeam of Unity's ray ; 
 The prayers of the widows and orphans will bless 
 
 The men who preside o'er our Union to-day. 
 
 Brother Arthur, the party that bade you "good 
 bye" 
 
 In Syracuse depot, are tried men and true, 
 And fondly we noted the glance of your eye 
 When you said : "At all hazards, my duty 
 
 I'll do." 
 Abe Shoemaker, Colbourne, Carroll, the three,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 33 
 
 Declared every word you expressed you'd 
 
 make good, 
 With hope in each bosom we parted in glee, 
 
 And soon you were hurried away by "Jim" 
 Wood. 
 
 Our object is truly enobling, I'm sure, 
 
 Truth, justice, and honor, are links in our chain. 
 Oh ! ills upon ills may those traitors endure, 
 
 Who'd seek to destroy us or cut us in twain. 
 But if in the course of events, 'twould be found, 
 
 That enemies e're should be met on our track, 
 Do not yield up an inch of our dearly loved ground, 
 
 Remember the army of boys at your back. 
 
 Now Spring has returned to cheer us once more, 
 
 And here is a gem which I found in her train : 
 "Put the engineer's wages the same as of yore," 
 
 That means, my dear Sirs, ten-per-cent back 
 
 again. 
 So, "down in the corner" I'll hie me along, 
 
 And pay every cent to the Brotherhood due ; 
 Besides, I will sing a short verse of a song, 
 
 Not heard since the panic in One-Fifty-Two. 
 
 To Garryowen Mike, ere I close, I will say, 
 A cead millie failthe awaits you, my boy, 
 
 When here you'll visit, all crowned from the frav, 
 
 3
 
 34 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 Which made you a victor, in railroad employ ; 
 Be sure your old Baldwin is burnished and brig-lit 
 
 And cheerfully grant every little request 
 Of him who the throttle-valve pulls on the right, 
 
 Then soon you'll be sporting- a B on your breast. 
 
 To climb by gradations is better by far 
 
 Than to step on the deck theoretic'lly wise ; 
 Good practical knowledge is always at par, 
 
 What experience teaches don't ever despise. 
 Now hurry along- to Ontario's shore, 
 
 When you get to Osweg-o blow brakes and 
 
 enquire, 
 And soon you'll be shown an hospitable door, 
 
 With one who will greet you called Shandy 
 Maguire. 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 Oh, Lord, 'tis seldom that my heart 
 
 Was known to seek thy aid ; 
 But let affliction pour its smart, 
 
 How soon a change is made ! 
 I need no intermediate one 
 
 To supplicate for me, 
 Prostrated here before Thy throne 
 
 I kneel in prayer to Thee.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 35 
 
 The churchmen tell 'tis your desire 
 
 That they should intercede, 
 To save us from Your dreadful ire 
 
 It is a selfish creed. 
 I don't believe such doctrines, Lord, 
 
 For when on earth You came, 
 You mingled in, with full accord, 
 
 Amongst the blind and lame. 
 
 Cathedral spires may grandly rise, 
 
 And bells with joyous peal, 
 May penetrate the vaulted skies, 
 
 With fervid human zeal ; 
 But reason taught me long- ago 
 
 That from this breast of mine, 
 My thoughts in penitential flow, 
 
 Can reach Thy throne divine. 
 
 You ne'er intended wealth should buy 
 
 Our everlasting weal ; 
 Yet oft on earth unshrived we lie, 
 
 And pierced by churchmen's steel, 
 Who barter all your graces here 
 
 With parsimonious greed, 
 Where we must buy salvation dear, 
 
 Confined in chains to creed.
 
 3G SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 You gave us air and water free, 
 
 And made the earth to bloom, 
 For which we left our hearts to thee 
 
 From out sectarian gloom. 
 Abroad among- the fields and flowers 
 
 Thy wondrous ways we trace, 
 Oh, grant among" celestial bowers, 
 
 I may behold thy face. 
 
 Now, Lord, my simple prayer attend, 
 
 And guide my wayward life ; 
 Be thou my father and my friend, 
 
 Shield all my days from strife ; 
 And when Your wisdom shall decide 
 
 That I from earth must flee, 
 Oh, grant I'll ever more reside, 
 
 Dear Lord, in sight of Thee. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM PHILLIP DOYLE. 
 
 Dear friend thou wert called in thy youth and 
 thy bloom, 
 
 To go over the mournful bourne ; 
 Many kind friends will lament thee in gloom, 
 Tears sad and silent we'll shed on thy tomb, 
 
 From whence thou canst never return.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 37 
 
 Heaven, thy mercy send down, we implore, 
 
 To comfort each sister and brother ; 
 And send that bereaved one a bountiful store, 
 Who suffered her share of affliction before 
 His heart-broken, poor, widowed mother. 
 
 Though clad in the garments of deep-seated woe, 
 Her duty she nobly performed ; 
 
 She taught his young footsteps the way they 
 
 should go, 
 
 Her feelings maternal were thankful to know 
 That virtue his pathway adorned. 
 
 At parting we murmured in accents sincere, 
 
 For God to protect him from danger ; 
 Then sadly we bade him farewell, with a tear, 
 And now, to behold him come back on his bier, 
 From the far distant land of the stranger. 
 
 In that far-away land 'tis consoling to think 
 
 That brother was vieing with brother, 
 Fraternally bound by a mystical link, 
 Who'd fain W T OO him back from eternity's brink, 
 To gladden the life of his mother. 
 
 But Death to the mark was unerring and true, 
 
 In the noon of his youth he departed ; 
 Yet death had no terrors exposed to the view
 
 38 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 For him who from childhood his duty did do 
 To her who is now broken-hearted. 
 
 Sorrowful tears on his grave we shall strew, 
 Forget our dear friend we shall never. 
 
 Tho' the vail of the tomb now conceals from our 
 view, 
 
 All that remain to us mortal of you, 
 Ytm'll live in our hearts, Phil, forever. 
 
 DECLINING ALDERMANIC HONORS. 
 
 Mr. Editor : Grant me a limited space, 
 
 Till I publish a little denial ; 
 Many boys have me pulled in a very tight place. 
 
 And condemn me without; any trial. 
 Wherever I go they keep poking their fun 
 
 If you doubt me ask Teddy McCarthy 
 They say I must not for an Alderman run 
 
 In our tidal-wave Democrat party. 
 
 One very great reason these "kickers" advanced 
 Why my nag should be ruled from the race, sir, 
 
 "He's a railroader now." For that crime I'd be 
 
 pranced 
 'Neath the hoofs of the rest in disgrace, sir. 
 
 God help us ! I thought a man toiling for bread.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 39 
 
 If he truly and honestly labors, 
 Could stand up erect, could uncover his head, 
 And be peer to his proudest of neighbors ! 
 
 Should I measure my strength with opponents, 
 I'm sure, 
 
 When the votes in the box would be tallied, 
 That an Alderman's chair I could sit in secure, 
 
 That the boys of the ward round me rallied. 
 By remaining- away I'll have frolic galore ! 
 
 And I hope you'll not think me uncivil 
 By saying 1 : "I don't care where runs the Lake 
 Shore, 
 
 And the Ellen Street bridge to the devil ! " 
 
 Considering the number of nags on the track, 
 
 'Tis hard to tell which one will answer ; 
 For each is a played-out, political hack, 
 
 And an old, spavined, blustering prancer. 
 Down amongst the spectators I'm going to stand, 
 
 It is there I'll feel jovial and hearty ; 
 And the nag that's in first I will pat with my hand, 
 
 On the Bloomingdale road of the party. 
 
 Mr. Page, 'tis to you I would briefly suggest, 
 
 In my broadest of broad nomenclature, 
 And I hope you'll bring forward this little request
 
 40 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Up before our New York legislature : 
 "All the blocks of the Fifth into wards must be 
 made." 
 
 Or, if not, the whole city will scoff us, 
 We all hanker so much for the Alderman's trade, 
 
 And one-tenth of us then may get office. 
 
 TO ANGELINE S. 
 
 Miss Angeline S., don't you think it is time 
 To send a response to your sweet little rhyme ? 
 It thrilled me, it filled me with pleasure all o'er, 
 I cherished it up in my heart's dearest core, 
 To think that a lady possessed of your charms 
 Will fold me for life in your beautiful arms, 
 And make me the paramount lord of your purse 
 When once we're united for better or worse. 
 
 Lamenting 1 in sorrow, long years I delayed, 
 Too bashful to woo, and to win a fair maid, 
 Deficient in courage, both luckless and poor, 
 What maid such a fool of a man could endure ? 
 But you, like an angel sent down from above, 
 Spread o'er me the wings of affection and love, 
 And made my heart buoyant and light as a 
 
 feather 
 To know we will jog on life's railroad together.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 41 
 
 What is beauty ? I care not a fig, my dear girl, 
 If your head could'nt boast of a ring-let or curl ; 
 If your eyes stood at angles of ninety degrees ; 
 If your tongue was incessantly running to tease ; 
 If your nose was a pug, with the top of it red ; 
 If your sweet little mouth semi-circled your head ; 
 In fact, I don't care how your features appear, 
 So long as a carriage you ride in, my dear. 
 
 I hope my appearance won't give you much care ; 
 
 Of beauty I have but a miserly share ; 
 
 I'm an only son, in her moments of joy, 
 
 My mother oft called me "her handsomest boy." 
 
 She suffered with fear least her darling would 
 
 smother, 
 
 By ladies embracing the son of my mother. 
 I wish the dear creatures would take my advice, 
 And continue, its naughty, folks say, but its nice. 
 
 I'm off for Fort Wayne when I draw my next pay, 
 I'll visit some friends whom I know on the way. 
 Be sure in your coach to the station you'll ride 
 To meet me, and give me a seat at your side. 
 I feel as if fortune, so hard in the past, 
 Was turning around in my favor at last. 
 No longer I'll suffer the pangs of distress, 
 When spending your ducats, Miss Angeline S.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO W. B. PHELPS. 
 
 (On being presented with a set of beautiful razors.) 
 
 How oft with microscopic glance 
 
 In mid-teens I my chin did scan, 
 In search of stunted down's advance, 
 
 Which would denote the future man. 
 And when a stra.y, forlorn hair 
 Did bless my persevering- stare, 
 The razor of my sire I stole ; 
 In boyish glee beyond control 
 I sought an unfrequented place, 
 My trembling 1 hand went o'er my face, 
 No mirror back my visage gave, 
 It was my first, my maiden shave ; 
 Your retrospective glance may tell 
 Py like experience what, befell ; 
 If eiglit old cats, I truly swear, 
 
 Played hide and seek round each jawbone, 
 Or danced a modern lanciers there, 
 
 Their claws would have more mercy shown. 
 
 And next in years of riper growth, 
 Till yesterday at manhood's noon, 
 
 I must confess to many an oatli 
 I stifled, sir, at features hewn. 
 
 1 slashed, and scraped, and strapped, and 
 moaned,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 43 
 
 I lathered, rubbed, I tugged, and honed ; 
 The thousand angry tears I shed, 
 The million crimson drops I bled, 
 If I could but recall them here, 
 
 And give them tongues to sound your 
 
 praise, 
 They'd thank you, sir, with words sincere, 
 
 In volumes of immortal lays ! 
 
 Your princely gifts I well may prize 
 
 As souvenirs till life's decline ; 
 They will remind my gloating- eyes 
 
 Of many a kindly act of thine. 
 Their polished, tempered, faultless sheen 
 Glides o'er my features, smooth and keen ; 
 'Tis pleasure now where all was pain ; 
 And ere I close this simple strain 
 Of Heaven one little gift I crave 
 To grant me here this side the grave 
 'Tis this : O Lord, if vandal boor 
 
 Should steal, 'twixt now and days remote, 
 My beauties bright, send vengeance sure, 
 And make them cut his thievish throat.
 
 44 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO MIKE OF GARRYOWEN. 
 
 Friend Michael : I have a spare moment or two. 
 And cheerfully now I'll devote them to you. 
 My memory points me a beautiful giade, 
 'Tis canopied o'er by an evergreen shade ; 
 There I'll convey you, my brother in rhyme, 
 The strings of my harp into tune I will chime. 
 I'll sing- you a brief little sketch of my life 
 And the luck I have met advertising- a wife. 
 
 In youth I was orphaned ; no kindred came near 
 To soothe me in sorrow or stay the sad tear, 
 When grown up to manhood I thought of a wife 
 To help me to climb up the grades of this life ; 
 Some dear little maiden, a sly little elf, 
 With no other failing than loving myself ; 
 To lift from my shoulders toil's wearisome load, 
 When home I'd return from a day on the road. 
 
 That's why in the Journal I fished for a mate. 
 A bouncing grass-widow kept nibbling the bait. 
 She wrote me : "Dear Shandy, in sadness I mourn 
 "The absence of one who is slow to return. 
 "But why should I longer lament him in tears ? 
 "Come wed me and father my tw r o little dears." 
 I'd like to comply, but my mother of yore 
 Cried : Shandy, beware of grass-widows, asthore !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 45 
 
 Success on occasions seemed hovering- nigh, 
 My heart then dilated with hope-beaming- joy, 
 When "Salsie" with promises sw r eetly expressed, 
 Averred she adored me the dearest and best. 
 I flew to the g-arret on pinions of love 
 In search of my bedding, chairs, cradle and stove. 
 Some friends at our wedding I then did invite, 
 But "Salsie" soon ended my dream of delight. 
 
 "Mollie Bawn" was the next urg-ed me on to 
 
 revealing 
 
 A kind of a, sort of a Benedict feeling-. 
 I made all arrangements to speedily wed her ; 
 The rest of my life I would run double-header. 
 Ah ! surely, I thought, 'tis a glorious selection, 
 This fair one must be the full type of perfection. 
 Alas ! I discovered the greatest of folly 
 In trying to capture a maiden like "Mollie." 
 
 Now last, though not least, well, in fact what I'd 
 
 call 
 
 My heartless deceiver Queen Bee of them all. 
 Miss Angeline S. left me stricken with pain ; 
 She's possessed of a fortune and lives in Fort 
 
 Wayne. 
 
 To the hill-top of hope on love's w r ings did I g-o, 
 But the fickle jade's silence soon dashed me below.
 
 4(3 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Dear Michael, her reasons are easily seen, 
 She rides in a carriage, I on a McQueen. 
 
 But why should your humble admirer despair, 
 Whose negligent curls have not a gray hair ? 
 While life lasts, there's hope, and if luck's at my 
 
 side, 
 
 Surely sooner or later I'll capture a bride. 
 But Michael, there's one at my elbow who says : 
 "All bigamists pay for their amorous ways." 
 So, between you and I, the state prison I'll shun, 
 Though the brothers insist I must keep up the fun. 
 
 ****** 
 I see you are one of that brave-hearted band, 
 Whom a traitor has scattered all over the land. 
 "Tis better to be found on the side that is right, 
 Than to pander and kneel to oppression and 
 
 might ; 
 
 'Tis better to be poor and be hopeful in God, 
 Than to bow down and kiss a tyrannical rod ; 
 'Tis better in rags to plod on to the grave, 
 Than to meekly submit to be scourged as a slave. 
 
 But why should I longer this subject pursue ? 
 'Tis gone to oblivion, away from our view ; 
 If .further I'd chime on such dissonant strings, 
 
 Brothers Arthur and Greene would be clipping 
 mv wings.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 47 
 
 Rig-lit here at Oswego they paid us a call, 
 And departed with hearty good wishes for all. 
 My regards to you, Mike, till existence doth end 
 I shall always be proud to be classed as your 
 friend. 
 
 "PATIENCE." 
 
 'Tis easy to preach about patience, 
 
 For those who have freedom from ills, 
 When dealing- out sympathy freely, 
 
 To victims of fevers and chills ; 
 'Tis easy to preach about patience 
 
 For those who have naught but a sneer 
 To give to the wretch who is tortured 
 
 With pains at the butt of his ear. 
 
 How eloquent, fluent, and freely 
 
 Their tide of glib sayings roll out, 
 To soothe the poor victim when howling- 
 
 With terrible twists of the g-out ; 
 Or joints all aflame with rheumatics, 
 
 When up from the bed he will leap, 
 To hear them exclaim : "Now be patient, 
 
 Lie still and g-o gently to sleep." 
 
 With pains of neuralgia thumping 
 Your nerves w ith big sledge-hammer blows.
 
 48 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Or chronic catarrh persecuting- 
 Your features, distorting 1 your nose. 
 
 'Tis easy to preach about patience 
 For those with demoniac grins, 
 
 Who tell 3^ou such torture was given 
 As certain atonement for sins. 
 
 Some toothaches most surely will bother 
 
 The wisest in surgical lore, 
 No matter how gently their forceps 
 
 Will touch you, in pain you will roar ; 
 And yet some old midwife or other 
 
 Will laugh at the nerve you display, 
 When \vrenched till your eyeballs are start 
 ing 
 
 From blood-colored sockets away. 
 
 Be patient the preachers keep telling 
 
 Poor souls without clothing or food, 
 When rolling in richest of broadcloth, 
 
 And aping a sanctified mood. 
 They'll feed you on texts from the Scriptures, 
 
 And ask why you dare to complain, 
 While at the same time they're regaling 
 
 On porter-house steak and champagne. 
 
 Oh, out on such hypocrite swaddlers, 
 Who travel palavering round,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To deal out their stock of set phrases 
 Where ever affliction is found. 
 
 I'd rather have one touch magnetic 
 In kindness steal over my head, 
 
 Than all of their blatherskite blabbing, 
 Dealt out at the side of my bed. 
 
 A TRIP IN CHARON'S FERRY. 
 
 One night, to enjoy a few hours of repose, 
 
 I coiled myself up in the bed 'neath the clothes, 
 
 Oblivious alike of my friends or my foes, 
 
 Right soon I was off in a dream. 
 I dreamt that old Charon had ferried me o'er, 
 As soon as his boat touched the Stygian shore, 
 "Here's Shandy Maguire," the old rascal did roar 
 
 With a weird and unearthly scream ! 
 
 Indeed, 'twas a burning reception I got, 
 The atmosphere there was oppressively hot, 
 But the imps whom I saw seemed content with 
 their lot, 
 
 And said I would soon be the same. 
 Old Pluto came up and extended his hand, 
 He spoke in a voice I could well understand, 
 "Dear Mr. Maguire, I'm at your command, 
 
 Your wish you have only to name." 
 
 4
 
 50 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To see how his majesty relished a joke, 
 I asked for a pipe and tobacco to smoke, 
 That simple request was a masterly stroke, 
 
 His countenance beamed with a grin. 
 "Here by my side sit at ease and enjoy 
 A smoke from my pipe, you're a broth of a boy, 
 While with me you linger none shall you annoy, 
 
 You seldom were guilty of sin." 
 
 His devils he ordered to march in review, 
 Oh, many were there in my life-time I knew ! 
 Jovial companions I saw 'mongst them too, 
 
 And bachelors mostly I spied ! 
 "How is it I don't see a Benedict here ?" 
 Pluto replied with a wink and a leer 
 "Poor souls, they all soar to a happier sphere ! 
 .- They atoned for their sins ere they died. ' ' 
 
 My brothers were few, as the column passed by, 
 The good natured phiz of "Square" Blake I could 
 
 He gave me a glance from his amorous eye, 
 And asked for the news from above. 
 
 I answered : "your sweet-hearts I tried to console, 
 
 Alas ! surely their grief was bej^ond my control ; 
 
 Together we prayed for repose of your soul." 
 C^uoth Bill, "that was brotherly love,"
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. . 51 
 
 Railroad directors were there in galore, 
 Presidents also, a plentiful store, 
 Superintendents I saw by the score, 
 
 Beelzebub caught them at last. 
 There they were shackled both safe and secure, 
 Placarded "tyrants on earth to the poor," 
 Those "ten-per-cent-off" boys I could 'nt endure 
 
 I closed my eyes till they had passed. 
 
 I also discerned some traitors were there, 
 A sorrowful, heart-rending- look of despair 
 All of the double-dyed villians did wear, 
 
 My pity for those was sincere. 
 "Your majesty," then I begun, "I would fain 
 Have you ease the poor wretches of part of their 
 
 pain;" 
 From a good hearty laugh Pluto could'nt refrain, 
 
 He whispered "last Fall" * in my ear. 
 
 A rollicking, frolicking, musical throng, 
 Uproariously singing a comical song 
 Up close to the traitors came marching along ; 
 "Who are they, your majesty, pray ?" 
 "Why, Shandy, a few of the boys I enrolled, 
 
 * This allusion has reference to the strikes in the Fall of 73, when the 
 Brotherhood was supposed to have been betrayed by Chas. Wilson, the Grand 
 Chief. In support of the supposition, there was a special convention called 
 to convene at Cleveland in February, '874, and by a unanimous vote he 
 was deposed. P. M. Arthur, the present Grand Chief, was elected in his 
 stead. Mr. Arthur is an intelligent, Christian gentleman, and has the 
 entire confidence of the organization, which he has successfully controlled 
 for the past eleven years.
 
 52 SHANDY MAUUIRE. 
 
 To see that the traitors don't suffer with cold ; 
 They could'nt be bribed with position or gold 
 Here "every dog* has his day." 
 
 His majesty's pipe I returned and said 
 "There's many an honest man toiling' for bread, 
 Who'll better his fortune when once he is dead." 
 
 I tickled the Governor there. 
 "If this is the region of brimstone and fire, 
 You'll find a good subject in Shandy Magriire." 
 After my wants he begun to inquire, 
 
 And spoke to me candid and fair. 
 
 "Dear Shandy, you always worked bravely on 
 earth ; 
 
 You've earned your grub from the moment of 
 
 birth, 
 You seasoned it, too, with a sprinkling- of mirth, 
 
 And never bowed down to despair. 
 Receive your reward you're possessed of the 
 
 knack 
 
 To oversee imps I have ballasting- track ; 
 I'm building- a road up to Wall street and back, 
 To handle the traffic from there. 
 
 Here comes your g-ang-, they were all millionaires 
 Above, and were known as the Bulls and Bears, 
 They g-ambled in stocks and they cornered the 
 shares
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 53 
 
 Now take all of them you can find. 
 Oh, yes, Mr. Pluto ! I instantly cried, 
 "My last crust of bread with these chaps I'll 
 
 divide." 
 His majesty smiled, for he knew that I lied, 
 
 He read all the thoughts in my mind. 
 
 I threw off my coat, to my cudgel held fast, 
 "Vengeance !" I cried, "for the days that are 
 
 passed 
 The road you chaps trod has an ending 1 at last, 
 
 Now I am commencing- my reign"- 
 Rap, tap, at the door, I awoke with a bound, 
 The "Caller's" rich brogue through my noddle 
 
 did sound : 
 "Och, Shandy, avick ! shure its time you got 
 
 round, 
 
 And don't be delaying your train !" 
 
 A COLD WATER LYRIC. 
 
 Let others sing of vintage prime, 
 Sparkling brightly in the cup ; 
 
 Imported from each sunny clime, 
 For eating manhood's vitals up ; 
 
 But I will tune my harp to praise, 
 
 In unpremeditated lays, 
 
 That self-dem'ing, noble band,
 
 54 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 Of honest heart and friendly hand ; 
 Who founded an asylum here, 
 To dry the mourner's bitter tear, 
 And preach the gospel of reform, 
 That will domestic hearths keep warm ; 
 Those pioneers of envied fame, 
 
 Who raised the temperance banner high, 
 And on its folds -engrossed each name, 
 
 To float beneath Oswego's sky. 
 
 'Tis not in legislative halls, 
 Surrounded by the bay'nets gleam, 
 
 'Tis not in fierce, politic brawls, 
 Can be dispelled the drunkard's dream. 
 
 Experience teaches us too true, 
 
 Coersive measures will not do. 
 
 We've heard the prohibition cry 
 
 Some candidates have raised on high ; 
 
 How they would send us steel-clad laws, 
 
 To guard our noble temperance cause, 
 
 With legislative bay'nets, too, 
 
 To slaughter all the drunken crew ! 
 
 There is a saying in that isle 
 
 Across the sea, where I have trod ; 
 
 And where oppressed ones with a smile 
 Put all their hopes and trust in God 
 
 "Nabocklish*" sure, it is the trade 
 
 * Never mind them .
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 55 
 
 Of all reformers whom we sent, 
 Soon as their fortune we had made, 
 To sell us out in parliament. 
 
 But here's to those, I fill the glass 
 
 To overflowing- from the spring, 
 And round, my boys, the toast w T ill pass, 
 
 In praise of all whom I do sing- ; 
 The brawny sons of hardy toil, 
 The noble lords of ev'ry soil, 
 The men of roug-h, untutor'd mind, 
 Possessed of jewels unrefined : 
 Each one endowed with nature's fire ; 
 My humble Muse would fain aspire 
 To trace the thoug-hts, that unexpress'd, 
 Lie sleeping- 'neath each russet vest ; 
 Those noble boys who raised the flag 1 
 No mean, dilapidated rag-, 
 But twined around with mem'ries brig-lit, 
 Augmenting- ev'ry Monday night, 
 As we in weekly councils meet, 
 And with fraternal smiling- greet, 
 Each penitent who joins the van, 
 Resolved to be a sober man. 
 Then here's to them, fill ev'ry glass 
 
 To overflowing from the spring ; 
 And round, my boys, the toast shall pass, 
 
 In praise of all whom I did sing.
 
 5G SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 EXIT SEVENTY-FOUR. 
 
 One evening 1 , indulging in fond reveries, 
 
 Or building- air-castles, whichever you please, 
 
 For know you, dear reader, I build with a wil I 
 
 My castles in latest of modern skill ; 
 
 No sooner erected, my queen on her throne, 
 
 Than down they come, tottering-, stone after 
 
 stone. 
 
 That nigiit I sat building-, the hour was late, 
 The fire was flickering low in the grate, 
 I arose to replenish, when lo ! what a sight 
 Met my wondering gaze, put my heart in a fright ! 
 Unannounced in the room stood a man on whose 
 
 brow 
 
 Old age had ruthlessly cut with his plow 
 Deep furrows and wrinkles, decrepit and old, 
 
 And hoary indeed, was the look of the stranger. 
 
 He shiver'd and shook with rheumatics and cold, 
 
 And looked the reverse to inspire me with 
 
 danger. 
 
 "Who are you ?" He answered : "I'm Seventy- 
 Four." 
 
 "The devil!" I cried, in amazement and wonder; 
 "Why did'nt you knock when you came to the 
 
 door?" 
 
 "I did," he replied, "hammered louder than 
 thunder.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 57 
 
 I thought you were dead, but I found you were 
 
 dreaming, 
 
 So cozy and snug 1 , with the fire 011 you beaming- ; 
 Quit dreaming, my boy, or you'll find if you joke 
 Too much with the fire, you'll encounter some 
 
 smoke. 
 
 I was loath to depart, 'tis the truth that I tell, 
 Till I came to embrace you and bid you farewell. ' ' 
 "To receive your embraces 'tis not my desire ; 
 Your sex isn't suited to Shandy Maguire 
 And, know you, old codger, 'tis little I care 
 How soon you set sail through the snow-laden 
 
 air. 
 
 I'm just as you found me a twelve-month ago, 
 Still poor, discontented, downhearted and 
 
 lonely ; 
 
 Up life's rugged grades I am clambering slow, 
 Just running on time to my meeting points 
 only." 
 
 "That's why," he exclaimed, "I have called here 
 to-night ; 
 
 Your wrongs in the past I have closely scanned 
 
 over ; 
 
 Ere parting, I mean to adjust them all right, 
 And leave you behind me knee deep in rich 
 
 clover." 
 "Sit down here beside me my worthy old friend,
 
 58 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I knew my misfortunes were near at an end ; 
 You're a beautiful, youthful, and kindhearted 
 
 man," 
 
 Some moments the blarney profusely ran. 
 His features assumed a paternal glow, 
 As thus he addressed me, distinctly and slow. 
 His voice, patriarchial, did many times fail, 
 Recounting this brief, chronological tale : 
 
 "The worthy Grand Chief Engineer of the earth 
 Proclaimed from His home beyond planet or 
 
 star, 
 
 That I should commence at the moment of birth 
 Uniting- mankind, smoothing- factions that jar. 
 I traveled the g-lobe on the wing-s of the storm, 
 I labored in vain the command to perform. 
 In castle and cot in all climes have I been, 
 In palace and prison sad sights have I seen ; 
 Through highways and byways too many by 
 
 name, 
 'Twas man against man, yes, and woman the 
 
 same. 
 
 Each bloated oppressor, with miserly hoard, 
 Still clings to his gold, and God's poor are 
 
 ignored ; 
 Dissensions and quarrelings, in factions and 
 
 creeds, 
 Bickerings, and wranglings, and damnable deeds.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 59 
 
 The body politic's unsavory and sore, 
 Corruption has seized on its very heart's core. 
 Save noble exceptions, mankind I have found 
 Are guided by Satan the universe round. 
 I'll retire from the scene, my successor is near; 
 Perhaps he'll accomplish the mission next year. 
 To the B. of L. E. I've been partial, I own, 
 
 There I found brothers who listen to reason, 
 A man I triumphantly placed on the throne, 
 
 Who'll shield you from danger and guard you 
 from treason. 
 
 And now, my dear boy, I will gladden your heart 
 With something I'll whisper before I depart : 
 If you'll follow my counsels they'll lead you 
 
 aright 
 
 To a clime where you'll dally in endless delight ; 
 'Tis a land where vast wealth on the surface is 
 
 found, 
 And companions, delighted, sport all the year 
 
 round "- 
 "Oh, bless you!" I said, "will you tell me its 
 
 name?" 
 "You rascal" he cried, "do you mean to 
 
 deceive me?" 
 
 "I do not, indeed, but my heart's in a flame, 
 To hear where that climate's located, believe 
 
 me."
 
 GO SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 His features assumed some incredible leers ; 
 My eyes begun shedding- mock-penitent tears, 
 He saw them, again to his heart I went creeping-, 
 Old men, like old maids, are soon conquered by 
 weeping 1 . 
 
 He resumed : "When your sails are all set to the 
 
 breeze, 
 
 And oft' you go cruising- in fanciful seas, 
 Remember directions I now shall unfold 
 You'll find they will lead to contentment and 
 
 gold; 
 
 Draw nearer, my life is fast ebbing 1 away, 
 I'm nearing the dawn of eternity's day"- 
 The clock begun tolling 1 , my g-uest guve a bound ; 
 To stop him some moments I made an endeavor: 
 'Twas midnight, and scarcely had struck the 
 
 twelfth sound, 
 When Seventy-Four left my vision forever. 
 
 THE GOOD TIME COMING. 
 
 "Now freig-hts are up," said Mickey Joyce, 
 "And wag-es too, so boss, less lip; 
 
 Close reef your shrill, commanding- voice, 
 Or I'll be off and make a trip^ 
 
 A life ashore is drudge and drive,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 61 
 
 For twelve long hours, to and fro ; 
 It matters not how hard I strive, 
 I ne'er can get a watch below." 
 
 But freights are up and times are good, 
 
 And owners very freely boast 
 "They'll gi ve their 'Matlows' wholesome food, 
 
 Roast beef, plum-duff, with quail on toast." 
 Just like the good old days of yore, 
 
 When tables groaned with flesh and fish ; 
 And captains brought their crews ashore, 
 
 To find a still more dainty dish ! 
 
 I yet can shift a sheet and hand 
 
 A sail when equinoctials howl ; 
 Besides, at sea, not like the land, 
 
 The mates don't care how much I growl ; 
 But here its work the live-long day, 
 
 In ev'ry kind of stormy weather, 
 And scarcely get sufficient pay 
 
 To keep my body and soul together. 
 
 Yourself and I have shipmates been 
 Some twelve or thirteen years ago, 
 
 With Parsons, in the Algerine, 
 
 Who gave us watch and watch below ; 
 
 You then could growl as well as me,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And work "Tom Coxs' traverse*" too, 
 And on a first-class jamboree 
 I never got the start of you. 
 
 For seven years I've done my best 
 
 Against head seas and heavy gules ; 
 'Tvvas 'full and by,' no ease nor rest ; 
 
 
 
 With stranded gear and tatter 'd sails. 
 But now the wind is piping fair, 
 
 And freights are on the rise once more ; 
 Don't drive me or the yards I'll square, 
 
 And on my lee leave jobs ashore. 
 
 I simply quote Mike's words to prove 
 
 That times are on the mend again ; 
 That freights and ships are on the move, 
 
 To cheer the hearts of sailor men. 
 Old tars begin to roll their hips, 
 
 And talk of all their pleasures past, 
 With captains, who commanded ships, 
 
 And used them well before the must. 
 
 * In nautical parlance, working "Tom Coxs' traverse" means to shirk 
 from duty.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 63 
 
 TO P. M. ARTHUR. 
 
 Grand Chief Engineer of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, 
 Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 My worthy chief, a word or two, 
 An humble friend will have with you, 
 
 With no intent to flatter. 
 My Muse is honest, frank and blunt, 
 In manhood's fight she seeks the front, 
 
 And can't be hired to spatter 
 High-sounding- words of fulsome praise 
 On men who seek dark, devious ways, 
 
 She does detest such clatter ; 
 That's why, to-night, in accents true, 
 She whispers me to write to you, 
 
 And so I jingle at her. 
 
 A general, you, of tactics rare, 
 Of toil you take the larger share, 
 
 Your army all reviewing ; 
 With honest words of hope and cheer, 
 You drive away all doubt and fear, 
 
 Our grosser thoughts subduing. 
 'Tis better far, my worthy chief, 
 And in the end brings more relief 
 
 From many ills accruing, 
 Than firing up each injured mind, 
 Until it is with passion blind, 
 
 And conquered foes pursuing.
 
 64 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I often think, with keen delight, 
 Upon that last October night, 
 
 When you and Greene together, 
 Surrounded by a faithful few 
 Good members of One-Fifty-Two 
 
 Both pictured stornry weather, 
 For any man who'd dare to yield 
 Our Brotherhoods' protecting shield 
 
 For sly, official blether 
 Who'd step within the slimy snare 
 Of promises, so seemly fair, 
 
 Then bound by such a tether. 
 
 You have your faults, I know they're few, 
 You'll surely meet temptation, too, 
 
 If not you're more than human : 
 Your duty calls you face to face 
 With men who are a purse-proud race, 
 
 And full of keen acumen ; 
 But, sure, your honest manly heart, 
 Will never from those maxims part, 
 
 All prized so much by you, man. 
 Your life's a page where men can read , 
 And in temptation's hour, indeed, 
 
 We know you proved a true man. 
 
 With weapons made of voice and pen, 
 You beard the lion in his den.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. I 
 
 Unawed by fear or favor. 
 Our rights determined to maintain, 
 Each nerve you'll put to fullest strain, 
 
 Regardless of palaver 
 From oily tongues, thrown out to woo 
 The mighty influence of you 
 
 For any base enslaver. 
 Ah ! well they know your cause is just, 
 And in our cause your knightly thrust 
 
 Grows braver, still, and braver. 
 
 Then strike but not below the belt 
 Strike ! your blows will soon be felt, 
 
 Your aim is sure and steady, 
 Strike, and make each tyrant reel, 
 Strike ! your words cut worse than steel, 
 
 Fluent, fierce and ready. 
 Strike the hireling, knavish pack, 
 Strike ! an army's at your back, 
 
 Patient, cool, unheady, 
 Waiting to sustain their Chief, 
 And drive our enemies to grief, 
 
 In retribution's eddy.
 
 66 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 A PEN PICTURE. 
 
 My mother, in juvenile years of her son, 
 Would say in a passion and sometimes in fun : 
 "Arrah Shandy, you rascal, y our gostering tricks 
 Will get both yourself and your friends in a fix," 
 And now, my dear Journal, I see an array 
 Of questions just out in the number for May, 
 Which bring- to my mind the hard words of my 
 mother, 
 
 Prophesying my friends both confusion and 
 bother. 
 
 Your replies, I infer, satisfied the demand, 
 For which in exchange I extend you the hand 
 Of a rollicksome, careless, unfortunate elf, 
 Who will "rise and explain" a few words for 
 
 himself. 
 
 Your answers were really too partial to me, 
 But mine shall be outspoken, candid and free 
 An answer in future to all who'll enquire 
 And seek an acquaintance with Shandy Maguire. 
 
 In regard to my engine and what she can do, 
 That "writer" I'll answer, my words shall be few, 
 Because he don't care if I'm posted at all, 
 He wants us to think that himself knows it all. 
 Suffice it to say when the pay car comes round
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 67 
 
 No handier boy with the pen can be found ; 
 My autograph then with a flourish and dash 
 I'll exchange in return for some hard-earned cash. 
 
 You'll find me an honest gossoon I must say, 
 So long- as temptation is kept from my way ; 
 I am truthful and never a lie will I tell, 
 If the truth, at the moment, will answer as well. 
 I am pious, and spend many hours in prayer, 
 When I stand on the rough, ragged edge of despair; 
 Much addicted to drinking, the bottles I drain, 
 When the corks go a-popping from Fancy's 
 Champagne. 
 
 I can palm off a pun and occasional joke, 
 I can always enjoy a good sociable smoke ; 
 And dear to my heart is my colored dudeen 
 Which I sport in the band of my greasy caubeen. 
 My hair doesn't curl because in my youth, 
 I always would suffer for telling the truth ; 
 Besides, there's a saving in needles and thread 
 To mothers who toy with their sons by the head. 
 
 In size I am rather "betwixt and between," 
 In looks I'm pronounced "most decidedly green." 
 Conversing ah ! then they exclaim : "What a 
 
 rogue, 
 
 Sure he tickles my heart with his elegant brogue. " 
 In dress, rather plain, and my wardrobe is light,
 
 68 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Not such as will gladden a landlady's sig-ht ; 
 When obliged to change quarters I move all my 
 stock 
 
 In a trunk which I make from a well worn sock. 
 
 Few friends have I had, yet in smiles and in tears, 
 I have scrambled along- to maturity's years ; 
 And I fear I am doomed a "superfluous man" 
 To linger my days with the bachelor clan. 
 1 am last of my race when I'm summoned away, 
 When my mortal remains shall be lowered in 
 
 clay, 
 
 No kindred will then be found kneeling- in prayers, 
 Giving thanks for a death that has made them 
 
 all heirs. 
 
 Now, ladies, I fear I have ruined for life 
 Ev'ry chance in my favor for g-etting a wife; 
 I have painted my picture with pen, ink and 
 
 paper, 
 
 Well aware 'tis a foolish, ridiculous caper. 
 I conformed to rules I was taug-ht in my youth, 
 When questions are asked my replies shall be 
 
 truth ; 
 I hope such a straight-forward course you'll 
 
 admire, 
 And smile an approval on Shandy Mag-uire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 69 
 
 Dear "Roger" whoever, wherever you are, 
 Your poem has caused me both grief and despair ; 
 That bouncing grass widow has threatened to 
 
 come 
 
 Along with her offspring in search of a home ; 
 Since reading your reasons, she writes me they're 
 
 true. 
 Please take her yourself with such objects in 
 
 view 
 
 I fear you're the husband she waits for in tears, 
 And had cause for deserting herself and her 
 
 dears. 
 
 " Garryowen" my regards, my long silence 
 
 excuse, 
 
 Be prepared when I call for an overland cruise ; 
 You were also invited with prosperous weather 
 We'll both of us start for Kentucky together. 
 When your canvas is bent and 3 r ou're ready to 
 
 sail, 
 
 To Oswego, New York, send a letter by mail ; 
 Once more 'neath the shade of magnolias I'll 
 
 rhyme, 
 And escape for a season this winter-bound clime.
 
 70 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 LOSS OF THE SCHOONER " I. G. JENKINS" 
 
 On Lake Ontario, off Oswego, November, 1875. Bead at the Benefit 
 Entertainment in behalf of the Widows and Orphans. 
 
 Oswego in garments of mourning- is clad, 
 She weeps for her gallant and brave, 
 
 Who were summoned away to the ranks of the 
 dead, 
 
 'Neath Ontario's foam-crested wave. 
 All as brave as ere trod fore and aft on the deck ; 
 We have known them from infancy's years ; 
 
 And their doom we can tell by the fragments of 
 wreck 
 
 That are washed by the seas to our piers. 
 
 Oh, hark to the news which prevails on each 
 
 street, 
 
 Through the highways and byways 'tis tossed, 
 In a grief -laden tone, from each person we meet, 
 
 All proclaiming the Jenkins is lost ! 
 "She went down with all hands," is the pitiful 
 
 cry 
 
 Sent from hearts unaccustomed to weep, 
 With the tears in a flood rolling free from each 
 
 eye, 
 As a tribute to those in the deep. 
 
 All her sailors were brave as ere climbed up a 
 spar,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 71 
 
 And her mates they were made to command ; 
 Captain Brown was as noble and skillful a tar 
 
 As ever sailed off from the land. 
 Such were the men whom her owners could boast, 
 But clouds wore a dark, angry frown, 
 Which obscured all the land marks surrounding- 
 ' our coast, 
 
 On the morning the Jenkins went down. 
 
 A merciless gale o'er Ontario's breast 
 
 Was driving- with terrible force, 
 It had a full sweep from the stormy nor'west, 
 
 And drove her away from her course. 
 All human exertions to save her, we know, 
 
 Were made lay her captain and crew ; 
 Alas ! all in vain, for the gale-driven snow 
 
 Our lig-hthouse shut out from their view. 
 
 Hear the cries of the widows and orphans arise 
 
 To-night on the cold biting air. 
 Oh ! how hard is the heart that's unmoved by 
 the sighs 
 
 And the symbols of deepest despair ; 
 The husbands and fathers who labored for bread, 
 
 Are rolling- in watery graves, 
 Never more to arise till the trump of the dead 
 
 Shall call them from under the waves.
 
 72 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 All you who are blessed with affluence and 
 
 wealth, 
 
 Who bask in prosperity's ray, 
 Whose lives are a round of contentment and 
 
 health, 
 
 To you for assistance we pray. 
 Oh ! pity the wives of the ill-fated tars, 
 
 Give freely from plentiful stores, 
 Their husbands, perhaps, may be lashed to the 
 
 spars, 
 And come washed by the seas to our doors. 
 
 AN ALBUM RHYME. 
 
 Dear Journal : A lady one evening- 1 met, 
 A valued acquaintance, a handsome brunette ; 
 A frolicsome, fun-loving-, beautiful creature, 
 Exquisitely molded in every feature. 
 Like most of her sex of the beautiful type, 
 Whose natural charms are lusciously ripe, 
 She had scores of admirers all " willing- to die," 
 So they madly exclaimed, "for a glance of her 
 eye." 
 
 A favorite song- for myself she would sing-, 
 When turning- her music I noticed a ring-, 
 That spoke of engagement ; I saw at a giance
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 73 
 
 My chances were slim, so I woke from my trance. 
 That tell-tale said plainly she'd never be mine, 
 Henceforth like a slave I will kneel at her 
 
 shrine, 
 
 And blarney her up in as elegant style, 
 As any gossoon from the Emerald Isle. 
 
 That evening- 1 saw she'd an object in view, 
 She said : " There's a leaf in my album for you, 
 And, this for a subject : ' please tell what you 
 
 see 
 
 To admire in a wild, naught}- girl like me.' ' 
 She smiled at my glances, she gave me her hand , 
 It thrilled like the touch of a magical wand, 
 It put me in rapture as well as in rhyme, 
 And here's the response which I sent in due 
 
 time : 
 
 I see but, alas ! I'm deserving of pity 
 Because all my wishes are hopeless, dear Kittie, 
 I see a profusion of dark wavy tresses, 
 Two lips that were made to receive my caresses, 
 Lips that the tint of vermillion disclose, 
 Tinged with the hue we admire in the rose, 
 Eyes that can pierce through my soul with their 
 
 brightness, 
 
 Hands that out-rival the lily in whiteness, 
 A bust that is rounded perfectly by nature,
 
 74 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Proclaiming 1 the owner a beautiful creature, 
 A voice that is sweeter than tropic birds winging 
 Their way through rich gardens of melody, 
 
 sing-ing-, 
 
 Smiles that enrapture my senses when gazing, 
 More bright than the Sun when in splendor he's 
 
 blazing, 
 A breath that surpasses the sweet-morning dew, 
 
 love, 
 
 Or fragrance that blooms 'round the shores of 
 Peru, love. 
 
 Right here I should cease, but an imp at my 
 
 shoulder 
 Keeps whispering : " time all those charms will 
 
 moulder," 
 And now while agkuv in the noon of your youth, 
 
 love, 
 
 I give you advice to be taken forsooth, love, 
 "Lay 'siege to a heart that you know will not 
 
 falter 
 Performing the vows which are made at the 
 
 altar, 
 
 Don't mind his appearance, if brawny his form, 
 So best when he buffets adversity's storm. 
 
 His coat what's the odds if its torn and tat 
 tered ?
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 75 
 
 His hat ma} 7 from service be crownless and 
 
 battered, 
 When married, he'll quickly improve with your 
 
 aid, love, 
 
 Besides, he will not let you die an old maid, love." 
 "Will you take this advice which I tender to you, 
 
 love ? 
 
 Of course, if you do, you are welcome to, true love. 
 Don't answer me "no"or you'll weep itin sorrow, 
 
 If "yes" you can dance at our wedding- to-mor 
 row." 
 
 TO DOCTOR LAWRENCE REYNOLDS. 
 
 (EX-CITY PHYSICIAN.) 
 
 Dear Doctor : I'm rather inclined to the notion 
 That thing's haven't went as they really should 
 
 g'o, 
 To pay for the years of untiring devotion 
 
 You gave to the cause, both in sunshine and 
 snow. 
 
 God knows when we made you a City Physician, 
 With pay just sufficient to furnish you grub, 
 
 We never supposed they'd create a commission. 
 And knock out your brains with an Albany 
 club.
 
 76 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Alas ! like yourself, there are many brave fellows, 
 Whose features have lengthened a fathom or 
 
 more ; 
 
 All sad, disappointed, downhearted Othellos, 
 Washed high on the rocks of despondency's 
 
 shore. 
 Experience has taught all those boys to their 
 
 sorrow, 
 
 That labor don't always receive its full pay- 
 That birds left to fly in the fields till to-morrow 
 May laugh at the cage and float gaily away. 
 
 God bless the good times that have left us forever, 
 When candidates smilingly walked on the 
 
 street ; 
 
 With speeches well studied, so oily and clever, 
 And asked us to drink ev'ry time that we'd 
 
 meet. 
 
 Then meekly request us to help them to office ; 
 Oh Lord ! how they'd make us the promises 
 
 fair, 
 But doctor, avick ! they would break them and 
 
 scoff us, 
 
 When once they'd sit down in an Alderman's 
 Chair. 
 
 And there they've been sitting for years and 
 been sleeping
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 7? 
 
 On nice cushioned chairs, in our grand City 
 
 Hall, 
 Whilst charter amendments went stealthily 
 
 creeping 
 Around through the flesh-pots, and gobbled 
 
 them all. 
 
 They left not a bone worth the labor of picking ; 
 Our dear city daddies we well may reproach. 
 Hereafter, we'll leave them to do their own 
 
 kicking, 
 Because they are like the fifth wheel to a coach. 
 
 Oh, times they have changed since High Joints 
 
 came in fashion, 
 And those are the boys who may whistle and 
 
 sing, 
 How slyly they work not a loud word in passion 
 
 When grinding the shears for an Alderman's 
 wing. 
 
 We need not much care how our votes are con 
 tested, 
 
 The voice of the many is drowned by the few, 
 And justice is shackled, confined, and arrested 
 Fifth warders well know what High Jointers 
 can do. 
 
 But, Doctor, cheer up, for the day will come 
 surely
 
 78 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 When out on the war path we'll sally once 
 
 more; 
 When those who are now back of breast works 
 
 securely, 
 
 Must come to the caucus the same as of yore ; 
 And there, foot to foot, with our scalping knives 
 
 ready, 
 We'll square up accounts, and we'll soon end 
 
 the strife; 
 
 Our aim will be deadly, unerring- and steady, 
 Defying- your skill to recall them to life. 
 
 DEATH LEVELS ALL 
 
 By the lig-ht of a glimmering taper 
 
 Which scarce penetrated the gloom, 
 I perused in the evening paper, 
 
 One night as I sat in my room, 
 How Archibald Perkins was lying 
 
 Delirious and seriously ill, 
 His critical ailment defying 
 
 The best of our medical skill. 
 
 "That's news!" I exclaimed, and the paper 
 
 I threw on my tenantless bed. 
 I quickly extinguished the taper, 
 
 Strange notions ran wild in my head.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. ?9 
 
 I meant to secure an admission 
 
 To the chamber where Archie was lying- ; 
 I could pass as a skillful physician 
 
 And see how a rich man Jay dying-. 
 
 I entered and found him as lowly 
 
 As any poor mortal could be ; 
 By efforts most painful he slowly 
 
 Held short conversation with me ; 
 I felt of his pulse and pretended 
 
 I knew all about his complaint, 
 I told him to cure I intended, 
 
 Altho' he was feeble and faint. 
 
 "In medical lore I am noted"- 
 
 For killing far more than I cure 
 Some jargon expressions I quoted, 
 
 He thought I was skillful, I'm sure. 
 Faint hope o'er his features went flying : 
 
 "Your name sir ?" he then did enquire, 
 "Oh, one that can save you from dying, 
 
 Yours truly, Lord Shandy Maguire." 
 
 The dying fool aped after titles, 
 Supposing my high-sounding name 
 
 Would give a new lease to his vitals, 
 And fan life's faint spark into flame.
 
 80 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 " Your Lordship, " said he, "I am wealthy, 
 When cured I'll one thousand allow. ' ; 
 
 I replied : "you're sufficiently healthy 
 To give me your autograph now." 
 
 He mutter'd of business relations, 
 
 Of stock-board transactions did prate, 
 Of shares and their latest quotations, 
 
 And thirty days grace after date. 
 He prayed that the past be forgiven, 
 
 And health with its blessings sent back, 
 Of living more closely to heaven. 
 
 I then screwed him down on the rack. 
 
 "I've often heard tell of a story, 
 
 How Satan an angel would be 
 When ill, but again in his glory, 
 
 The devil an angel was he ; 
 And now, since we're talking of devils, 
 
 I have a few words I must say : 
 Quit thinking of all your past revels, 
 
 And for your poor soul let us pray." 
 
 "You're now in a sinking condition, 
 
 Not fit to respond to the call, 
 I'm neither a quack nor physician, 
 
 Can give no assistance at all.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 81 
 
 Great riches on earth you were given, 
 
 For reasons 1 cannot explain ; 
 You'll not find a passport to Heaven 
 
 In all of your ill-gotten gain." 
 
 The Dives of this world are man}', 
 
 In luxury rolling' secure, 
 And will not contribute a penny 
 
 To save from starvation the poor ; 
 But grind us througii ages and ages, 
 
 Till sinews are worn to thread, 
 Curtailing our lives and our wages, 
 
 When fighting the battle for bread." 
 
 "You've always been fond of fast riding, 
 
 And sorely the patience would try 
 Of slaves switched for hours on a siding 
 
 Until you'd go thundering by ; 
 You'll find previous running exceeded 
 
 By speed most appaling to view, 
 To climes where no snow-plow is needed, 
 
 To-night in old Charon's canoe." 
 
 Your eyes will soon close on your capers. 
 
 Old death's at the head of your stairs, 
 To-morrow the news in the papers 
 
 Will gladden the hearts of your heirs. 
 
 6
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 'Though my coat hang's by patches and 
 stitches, 
 
 My purse and my pockets are light, 
 Yet Archie, for all of your riches 
 
 I wouldn't change places to-night. 
 
 MORE TROUBLE. 
 
 At the close of a wearisome day, 
 
 My engine in round-house secured, 
 I was carelessly strolling- -away, 
 
 Until called to "examine the hoard." 
 A feeling that all wasn't right 
 
 Crept instantly over me there ; 
 This order that hurst on my sight 
 
 Soon plunged me in deepest despair : 
 
 "On his arrival, with speed 
 
 To headquarters send Shandy Maguire ; 
 Have promptly this order obeyed, 
 
 (Signed) Archibald Perkins, Esquire." 
 No wonder I gazed in dismay, 
 
 With tears running down from each eye; 
 I thought Perkins was cold in clay, 
 
 And his nose turned up to the sky.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 83 
 
 I entered, and saw at a glance 
 
 What my chances were going- to be, 
 As round like a bear did he prance, 
 
 With his eyes shooting- vengeance at me. 
 I moistened the valves of my tongue, 
 
 Kicked the office door shut with a slam, 
 Knowing well 'tis the same to be hung 
 
 For a sheep as it is for a lamb. 
 
 "So, so, Mr. Shandy, you're here, 
 
 Impostor, physician and quack, 
 "My Lord !" he exclaimed with a sneer, 
 
 "Is your body prepared for the rack ? 
 T'other night, with a hellish design, 
 
 Concealed by the drapery's gloom, 
 You entered a chamber of mine, 
 
 To hurry me off to the tomb. 
 
 "This letter I hold in my hand 
 
 Will have you committed to jail, 
 For villainy skillfully plan'd, 
 
 A crime not admitting of bail ; 
 The best legal talent I've got, 
 
 The laws shall be changed at my will ; 
 I'll send you in dungeons to rot 
 
 On the charge of attempting to kill."
 
 84: SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 "Shut off, and down brakes on your slang-, 
 
 Or if not, Mr. Archie you'll find, 
 From a painful, unmerciful bang-, 
 
 That muscle's more powerful than mind. 
 The odds are ag-ainst you, old boy, 
 
 Consider, your health is still poor, 
 And 'twould give me the greatest of joy 
 
 To measure your length on the floor. 
 
 "The charge I fling back in your face. 
 
 And of one thing I'm certain and sure : 
 You've the heart to bring shame and disgrace 
 
 On a man just because he is poor : 
 But if fortune hops into the scales, 
 
 And lingers awhile at our side, 
 As we scud with prosperity's gales, 
 
 In your handsome gilt coach we shall ride. 
 
 "In His mercy God pity the man, 
 
 Engaged in the struggles of life, 
 Who seeks on the laboring plan, 
 
 Subsistence for children and wife. 
 It were better by far he was call'd 
 
 In the morning of life, to the grave, 
 Than linger along to be gall'd 
 
 By the fears of becoming a slave.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 85 
 
 "By a move on the chess-board of war, 
 
 Four millions of Blacks were made free ; 
 Besides, you import from afar 
 
 The rat-eating, heathen Chinee. 
 You move 'em all over this land, 
 
 Check-mating 1 our struggles for Right, 
 Ah, yes, with an iron-clad hand 
 
 By Heavens, you'd shackle the white. 
 
 "How happy 3 r ou'd feel, could you say, 
 
 To the over-taxed laboring class, 
 'I am made of far daintier clay, 
 
 To your knees, and bow down as I pass.' 
 But w r e'll never submit to be slaves 
 
 While a pulse-throb of manhood remains ; 
 As freedmen we'll sink in our graves, 
 
 Ere breathing one hour in your chains. 
 
 "Then pause in your onward career ; 
 
 Reflect on the course you pursue, 
 Retribution, stalks close in the rear 
 
 Of such hardened old wretches as you ; 
 You'll meet with it, sooner or late, 
 
 There's a terrible sentence in store, 
 When you pass through Eternity's gate, 
 
 For the wrongs you inflict on the poor.
 
 80 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 " I know that my head you'll lop off, 
 
 You never could relish a joke, 
 So here is material enough, 
 
 For your silver-gilt dudeen to smoke. 
 When the wreaths curl up round your nose, 
 
 As you lay on your velvet settee, 
 Perhaps you'll he lull'd to repose 
 
 By a fond recollection of me." 
 
 I ceased, and requested my pay, 
 
 Supposing- my service would end ; 
 He order'd me mildly away, 
 
 And said he would sentence suspend. 
 " Arrah, glory to Heaven, old boy, 
 
 Give me hold of your fist ere we part, 
 And remember, kind words can send joy, 
 
 Thrilling down to the depths of the heart. 
 
 THE FREAKS OF FORTUNE. 
 
 One evening I sat meditating 
 On various ills we endure, 
 
 And many, indeed, are the ailments 
 Encountered thro' life by the poor.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 87 
 
 I heard a slow footstep approaching-, 
 And turning- around in my chair 
 
 I saw an old man, on whose features 
 Sat sorrow and hopeless despair. 
 
 He looked like a way-worn stranger. 
 
 I did not his business enquire, 
 But asked him to come and be seated 
 
 'Long-side of myself at the fire. 
 He thanked me in accents of sorrow ; 
 
 His voice, Ah ! I've heard it before. 
 'Twas Archibald Perkins, in tatters, 
 
 Who came unannounced to my door ! 
 
 Alas ! what a chang-e in poor Archie ; 
 
 Time was when he had at command 
 A gilt equipage, and his riches 
 
 Were talked of all over the land. 
 His bearing, then chillingly haughty, 
 
 Conceit played a prominent part ; 
 I often have wondered if Heaven 
 
 Created the man with a heart ! 
 
 I heard he encountered misfortune, 
 Was blown on adversity's rocks, 
 
 Because he endeavored to "corner" 
 The market by watering stocks.
 
 88 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 With prosperous sunbeams around him 
 His friends were a numerous clan, 
 
 But now he was sad and forsaken 
 A heart-broken, weary old man ! 
 
 "Alas ! I'm exhausted with hunger," 
 
 Exclaimed my poor, ill-fated guest 
 "I fain would implore you to grant me 
 
 Some needed refreshments and rest. 
 I trudged many miles since the morning, 
 
 I'm seeking a place to lie down, 
 Wherein I'll escape for a season 
 
 The force of Adversity's frown." 
 
 "Benumbed with fatigue and exposure, 
 
 I ask you in charity's name, 
 To grant me this night in seclusion ; 
 
 No more from your pity I'll claim. 
 To-morrow I'll leave you forever, 
 
 This night in your town is my last ; 
 The rest of my life I'll endeavor 
 
 To make some amends for the past." 
 
 He ceased, and I stood up before him, 
 To notice the look of his eye. 
 
 I paused for a moment, reflecting 
 On how I should make him reply.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 89 
 
 Poor Archie, a tramp and a beg-g-ar ! 
 
 Who once had a palace-car train ; 
 With waiters to fan him and feed him, 
 
 And pour him out choicest Champagne ! 
 
 "Indeed I am more than astonished 
 
 To see you so friendless and poor. 
 I scarcely could credit my senses, 
 
 When first you arrived at my door. 
 You're quite a professional beg-g-ar, 
 
 You've learned the trade very fast ; 
 You're weak as that mem'rable evening- 
 
 You thought you were breathing 1 your last. 
 
 "Before I will grant you the favor 
 
 You earnestly seek and desire, 
 A little account must be settled 
 
 Between you and Shandy Mag-uire. 
 I hope sir you haven't forg-otten 
 
 Those truths which I told you of yore, 
 That brokers and breakers of Wall Street, 
 
 Would toss you on poverty's shore. 
 
 " Remember the time you sat grinding- 
 The hearts of poor, laboring- men, 
 
 By orders tyranic'lly issued, 
 
 Each day by a dash of your pen ;
 
 90 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Your cutting 1 and slashing of wages, 
 Your payment in scrip, and the mode 
 
 Of testing our power of endurance 
 Along the whole line of the road. 
 
 " Oh, Heaven ! my wrath is unbounded, 
 
 At how you abused ev'ry crew 
 In days when the gavel was sounded 
 
 By such an old tyrant as you. 
 'Twas seldom, if ever, you granted 
 
 Redress from each heartless decree. 
 No doubt, you distinctly remember 
 
 Suspending a sentence on me. 
 
 " Yourself graduated from labor, 
 
 But beggars on horseback excel, 
 They drive right ahead in their fury, 
 
 And ride through the portals of Well, 
 I can't see the use of me marring 
 
 My beautiful face with a frown. 
 Besides, I have never assisted 
 
 In kicking a man when he's down. 
 
 "You're hungry ! sit down at this table, 
 You're not quite so choice as you were 
 
 In days when the stock holders dined you 
 And fed you on sumptuous fare ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 91 
 
 Because you reduced the expenses, 
 By making more work for less pay ; 
 
 And telling- them how you could run us 
 As far as you chose for a day." 
 
 I ceased, and I quickly regretted 
 
 My rashness to one of his years. 
 He bowed o'er his head and I noticed, 
 
 His eyes were fast filling- with tears. 
 "Ha, ha ! my old sport, I discover 
 
 My words have struck deep in their force 
 And reached away down to that fountain 
 
 Well known by the name of 'remorse.' ' 
 
 "Perhaps you are playing- impostor, 
 
 Arrayed in that mendicant g-arb, 
 To see with what vengeance I'll prick you 
 
 To-nig-ht with my merciless barb ; 
 The morrow r 's brig-lit sun may behold you 
 
 Once more at the head of affairs, 
 Arrayed in rich broad-cloth, and all of 
 
 Your old time original airs." 
 
 "Here's bread, you can see I've no butter, 
 Nice dainties to us are a treat ; 
 
 This bone affords excellent picking- 
 To furnish a morsel of meat.
 
 92 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Here's hay -seed some time I've had steeping- ; 
 
 My grocery-man sells it for tea ; 
 The sugar and cream are dispensed with, 
 
 Since wages were slaughtered on me. 
 
 "Some more I will do to console you, 
 
 And soothe you for days that have fled, 
 When supper is over I'm ready 
 
 To give you the half of my bed ; 
 Because I'm inclined to consider 
 
 Your bark was far worse than your bite. 
 Eat hearty now, Archie, poor fellow ! 
 
 You'll not leave my cabin to-night." 
 
 OUR LETTER CARRIERS. 
 
 Once more the onward march of time, 
 
 In measured tread, from pole to pole. 
 Through every land, in every clime, 
 
 Has marked again the seasons roll 
 That brings the festive days, when Mirth 
 
 Will reign supreme in joyous cheer, 
 And every heart o'er all the earth 
 
 Will welcome give the young New Year.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 93 
 
 This is the time we recognize 
 
 The faithful service of the past, 
 We march along with glad surprise 
 
 To those, 'mong whom our lots are cast ; 
 Bestowing there a gift of love, 
 
 Rewarding with an open hand 
 We sow the seed we'll reap above, 
 
 When called to join Jehovah's band. 
 
 Of all who may our bounty claim 
 
 A few stand first amid the throng; 
 A faithful Band, unknown to fame, 
 
 Who are the heroes of my song, 
 Who plod along their toilsome way, 
 
 In Summer sun, or Winter sleet, 
 From early morn till close of day, 
 
 On steady and untiring feet. 
 
 Oh ! Who can tell the news they bear, 
 
 As on they hurry to and fro, 
 The tender joy, or grim despair, 
 
 The written tale of weal or woe. 
 The human heart ma} T surge and sway 
 
 With varied tidings that they leave, 
 As on they travel every day, 
 
 To bid us all rejoice, or grieve.
 
 94 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Such servants we can ne'er despise, 
 
 We'll prove each faithful action here ; 
 We will reward and recognize 
 
 At this the dawning of the year. 
 We'll cheer their hearts and urge them on 
 
 Upon their daily toilsome way 
 And ere the dawn of Eighty-One, 
 
 They will our gen'rous gifts repay. 
 
 LAKE MICHIGAN. 
 
 The chain of lakes are rough indeed, 
 
 And fearful sometimes to behold ; 
 When chilling winds prevail in speed, 
 
 And drive along the biting cold ; 
 More fearful yet than all the rest, 
 
 The very first in danger's van, 
 Is this, the great lake of the West, 
 
 'Tis term'd "Wild Lake Michigan." 
 
 The shores, like mountains steep and high, 
 Are all composed of crumbling sand ; 
 
 If underneath a wreck does lie 
 One man in ten may chance to land.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 95 
 
 No friendly branch or root projects 
 To clamber from the rolling- waves, 
 
 Kind Heaven alone is all protects 
 
 Poor shipwrecked tars from watery graves. 
 
 And yet I love the billows wild, 
 
 When lashed by winds and capped with foam, 
 When mountain waves on waves are piled, 
 
 That seem to touch heav'n's cloudy dome ; 
 Then downward sink in valleys deep, 
 
 Of mad'ning-, swirling-, dashing spray, 
 Until, rebounding, on they sweep 
 
 In unobstructed force away. 
 
 THE COMING OF SPRING. 
 
 A few short weeks will make a change, 
 
 Important in our town, 
 When moral laws will take effect, 
 
 And vice be trampled down ; 
 When hoary Frost will take his leave 
 
 Of every hill and plain ; 
 And smiling Spring, the poor man's hope, 
 
 With us once more will reign.
 
 96 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The merchant's safe he'll then unlock 
 
 To con his dollars o'er, 
 And then invest judiciously, 
 
 In hope of gaining- more ; 
 The wheels of enterprise shall hum, 
 
 Which long- inactive staid, 
 When those much looked for days shall come, 
 
 To give new life to trade. 
 
 And we who must by labor live 
 
 Will hail the joyous sound ; 
 Our willing hands we'll freely give, 
 
 To make the air resound. 
 With steady din of work restored, 
 
 When all may laugh and sing, 
 To know dull times, so much deplored, 
 
 Shall vanish with the Spring. 
 
 TO AN IMPORTUNATE CONTRIBUTOR. 
 
 Dear Madam : With feelings of sadness, 
 I'm forced to address you in rhyme ; 
 
 Your letters will drive me to madness, 
 Unless you repent of the crime.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 At first, when I thought you were joking-, 
 
 I sent you soft nonsense galore, 
 But, madam, of late you're provoking-, 
 
 And piercing- my heart to the core. 
 
 The "g-ush " that's contained in each letter, 
 Your mode of describing- your charms ; 
 
 Your hope, that for worse or for better, 
 I'll ling-er my life in your arms. 
 
 So "g-entle, kind-hearted and loving-," 
 An ang-el you'd have me believe, 
 
 Whose husband at present is roving- 
 All over the land on " French leave." 
 
 You never have written the reason 
 
 He fled from his lodging- and board ; 
 His meals were they ready in season ? 
 
 In jars did you have the last word ? 
 Have you read of a woman called " Caudle?" 
 
 (Would that all Mrs. Caudles were hung-.) 
 Now, say, did your husband skedaddle 
 
 Away from your musical tong-ue ? 
 
 You've asked for my true name so often, 
 I'll answer, don't think me a liar, 
 
 May my eyes be stone blind in my coffin, 
 If my name isn't Shandy Mag-uire.
 
 98 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The ladies in youth called me " Candy," 
 Because I was sweet what a shame 
 
 That mother should change it to Shandy, 
 Hence, madam, my "comical name." 
 
 You've two little cherubs, you write me, 
 
 Both handsome, the same as their ma, 
 Whose juvenile tricks will deligiit me, 
 
 When once I'm installed as their pa. 
 Oh ! know you, dear madam, I'd rather, 
 
 One thousand times sooner, I swear ! 
 Have one of my own call me "father," 
 
 Than scores like your beautiful pair. 
 
 Your eyes, they are black, and what matter ? 
 
 I care not a fig- for their hue ; 
 It never puts meat on the platter, 
 
 Be the shade black or heavenly blue ; 
 Were you and I coupled tog-ether, 
 
 Your husband then chance to come back, 
 I'm certain, dear madam, that either 
 
 Or both of our eyes would be black. 
 
 The poor devil sighed for his freedom, 
 
 Like many another, I know, 
 Whose wrongs do impulsively lead 'em 
 On roving commissions to go.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 99 
 
 He dreamt in his youth and his fond age 
 
 Of angels, and conjugal vows, 
 But awoke to confinement and bondage, 
 
 And petticoat rule in his spouse. 
 
 Because in my rhymes I feel jolly, 
 
 And conjure a smile to the face, 
 Don't think, from my capers and folly, 
 
 I sigh for your absent love's place : 
 I'm sure it is better to tarry 
 
 And die an old bachelor, too, 
 Than take any chances, and marry 
 
 A bouncing "grass widow" like you. 
 
 A widow, plump, fair and kind-hearted, 
 In garments of mourning arrayed, 
 
 Whose husband from life has departed, 
 I'd marry as soon as a maid.. 
 
 When cold, icy blasts would sweep o'er us, 
 Companioned by direst alarms, 
 
 I'd laugh at the wrath of old Boreas, 
 And weather the gale in her arms. 
 
 So your hair is an auburn color, 
 
 In ringlets adorning your head ; 
 I'll wager my life to one dollar 
 
 Your hair is a carroty red.
 
 100 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 If you stood on a curve, and a stranger, 
 The lever I'd quickly throw back, 
 
 And I'd think you a signal of danger, 
 
 Dropped off from some train on the track. 
 
 Were you ever possessed of a father ? 
 
 If so, for his sake will you cease ? 
 Have you ever been blessed with a mother ? 
 
 If you were, in her name grant me peace. 
 Your sisters and brothers, if any, 
 
 I hope will advise you to pause ; 
 At present our jails have too many 
 
 Like you, for transgressing the laws. 
 
 Now madam, I pray you, give over ; 
 
 Have patience, at least till we're sure 
 Your husband lies under the clover, 
 And then we can slumber secure. 
 Don't let my " droll warbling " allure you, 
 
 To be my "heart's queen" don't aspire, 
 For you'll not find a fool, I assure you, 
 
 In him who's called Shandy Maguire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 101 
 
 TO R. F. LEFFIN, MOBILE, ALA. 
 
 Ah, Bob, my old friend, as the snow-flakes are 
 
 flying-, 
 
 I pen you these lines at Ontario's shore ; 
 Perhaps you'll peruse them, contentedly lying 1 , 
 Where Nature too partially squanders her 
 
 store ; 
 
 Where song- birds melodiously sing- in the bowers, 
 And mocking- birds whistle their notes on each 
 
 tree, 
 Where love-tales are whispered thro' pathways 
 
 of flowers ; 
 
 Ah, those are the scenes that are treasured by 
 me. 
 
 Enjoy them, my friend , but in moments of leisure, 
 
 Remember the days that have fled long ago ; 
 Yes,think of the days and the evening-s of pleasure 
 
 We sported together where g-ulf breezes blow. 
 This life is a lease, you must sing and be jolly, 
 
 Bob, quaff the full bowl of enjoyment to-day, 
 To-morrow old Care may set brakes on yotir f oily, 
 
 And stall you, my boy, in the midst of your 
 play. 
 
 Oh, often, I think, 'tis a dire occupation 
 
 We follow, in order to gain us our bread ; 
 "He died at his post," is a poor consolation,
 
 LOS SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To steal from our graves and peruse when 
 
 we're dead ; 
 1 only can speak for the son of my mother, 
 
 And tell you " such honors I really decline," 
 Ah, yes ; and I think Bob, I know of one other 
 Whose answer would be in such language as 
 mine. 
 
 Consider the dangers that hourly beset us ; 
 
 A wheel's revolution may end our career. 
 Tho' brave be our acts, our officials forget us 
 
 When mangled, and slaughtered, and cold on 
 
 our bier. 
 We never have learned that Boards of Directors 
 
 Donate the poor widows so much by the year, 
 Nor yet have we known them as orphans' pro 
 tectors, 
 
 Rewarding the acts of a brave engineer. 
 
 A switch may be wrong or a bridge may be rotten , 
 
 A trestle but poorly constructed, and fall, 
 Orders be loosely obeyed or forgotten, 
 
 And trains may be met without orders at all ; 
 A tire may burst or a boiler go crashing, 
 
 The rods and the pins into pieces may fly, 
 A rail may be broken, and send us on dashing, 
 
 Unslirived to the Court of our Maker, on high.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 103 
 
 But Bob, here's a truce to each gloomy forebod- 
 
 irio' 
 m to> 
 
 Away from such thoughts you and I must 
 
 retreat. 
 A laugh conquers Care, when our hearts he's 
 
 corroding, 
 There's time to shake hands with old Nick when 
 
 we meet. 
 Bad luck to his black, smoky phiz, we defy him, 
 
 His old cloven foot you and I cannot scare, 
 With guns double-shotted, if ever we spy him, 
 We'll riddle his carcass with broadsides of 
 prayer. 
 
 Your lady love gives me a glance full of meaning, 
 
 As much as to say, "My poor heart is in pain," 
 The dregs of despair I am sure she is draining, 
 
 And gladly she'd hail your return Bob, again, 
 'Tis sad to behold the dear girl bewailing 
 
 Her lover, who's far, far away from her view. 
 Sooner than see her health rapidly failing, 
 
 Old friend, I will court her by proxy for you. 
 
 No doubt you are still flirting gay ly with Nettie, 
 Who lives in the rose-trellised cot at Spring 
 
 Hill; 
 Who strolled at your side down the beach to 
 
 Frascatti,
 
 104 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And floated all nig-ht in the waltz and quadrille. 
 And,oh,the delig-ht coming- home from the party ! 
 
 When weary, up close to your arms she would 
 
 creep ; 
 And kisses you'd steal by the hundred,my hearty, 
 
 As soundly the darling- pretended to sleep. 
 
 Reg-ards to the boys who of yore congregated 
 
 Where mirth and her minions hold carnival 
 
 still ; 
 A sig-h for our brothers whose lives were ill-fated, 
 
 Ah, lig-ht be the turf on Cole, Quigley and Hill. 
 And now, you'll remember I hold you my debtor, 
 
 I hope you'll devote me an evening- or two. 
 I'll g-ladly peruse all the news from a letter 
 
 That's penned in the South by a "Snow Bird" 
 like you. 
 
 THE CLERGY ON HELL. 
 
 The clergy are now agitating- the word, 
 
 The Bible is ransacked all 'round, 
 Fierce thunder from pulpits, on all sides is heard, 
 
 Proclaiming- where hell can be found. 
 Orthodoxy declares it a bottomless pit, 
 
 Overflowing- with brimstone and fire, 
 Where millions on millions, must roast on a spit, 
 
 Impaled by God's merciless ire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 105 
 
 Each preacher he fashions a hell of his own, 
 
 To suit both the age and the clime, 
 God prosper their labor, we'll leave them alone, 
 
 They're having" a hell-roaring- time. 
 I enter the list of explorers and claim, 
 
 To know all its hearings right well ; 
 What's more, these few lines are inspired by the 
 flame, 
 
 And the fearful surroundings of hell. 
 
 Right here on this earth as it travels thro' space, 
 
 From equator away to the polls, 
 I freely maintain is that terrible place, 
 
 Where we suffer in bodies and souls. 
 We existed before, but in some other sphere, 
 
 Some planet remote in the sky, 
 Where for leading a reckless and sinful career, 
 
 We were kicked from that region on high. 
 
 We starving down here were the rich ones up 
 
 there, 
 
 Who clung to our miserly hoard, 
 Every beggar we see was some proud millionaire, 
 
 Whom the wants of his fellows ignored ; 
 And those on this earth wi^h their pockets well 
 
 lined, 
 With all the good tilings which we love,
 
 106 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The merciful God of creation designed, 
 That they were the beggars above. 
 
 We are now the reverse of what once we have 
 been, 
 
 And you know the old saying- right well : 
 " Put a beggar on horse-back he'll never draw 
 rein 
 
 'Till he rides through the portals of hell ; " 
 Fast horses we rode up above, but we rolled 
 
 In the shape of a babe on this earth, 
 And our first tiny squall did the sad tale unfold, 
 
 Where we entered the moment of birth. 
 
 When our flesh is all purged, and this pilgrimage 
 
 o'er, 
 
 Our remains will be laid in the tomb ; 
 And from there we'll ascend to our riches once 
 
 more, 
 Far away from this valley of gloom. 
 
 There the rich ones of earth for subsistence must 
 fight, 
 
 They must struggle in bondage and strife, 
 And we beggars will dally in endless delight, 
 
 If we only can think of this life.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 10? 
 
 KITTIE, DEAR. 
 
 Now the summer days are dying-, 
 And the leaves will soon be flying-, 
 When the chilling- winds come hieing-, 
 
 Kittie, dear, 
 
 All our pleasure trips are over, 
 That we made through scented clover, 
 Since you chose me as your lover, 
 
 Kittie, dear. 
 
 All the hours we strolled tog-ether, 
 In the g-lorious sunny weather, 
 With our hearts as light as feather, 
 
 Kittie, dear, 
 
 Have been full of untold blisses, 
 Sighs, and vows, and humid kisses, 
 With you, fairest of young- misses. 
 
 Kittie, dear. 
 
 Soon the snow-flakes will be falling-, 
 And the cold intense, appalling-, 
 And my heart for 3 T ours be calling-, 
 
 Kittie, dear. 
 
 Now I think 'tis time to marry, 
 Or my hopes may all miscarry, 
 If you long-er wish to tarry, 
 
 Kittie, dear.
 
 108 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 We are young- and both true-hearted, 
 And upon life's road we're started ; 
 Let us wed and ne'er be parted, 
 
 Kittle, dear. 
 
 While we've health we're full of treasures ; 
 We'll have joy in flowing 1 measures, 
 And our share of wedded pleasures, 
 
 Kittie, dear. 
 
 Ah ! that smile is answer dearly, 
 And it speaks in tones sincerely ; 
 Better thus than tell me tearly, 
 
 Kittie, dear. 
 
 Time will make our hearts grow fonder ; 
 In the future days we'll wander, 
 And on scenes like this we'll ponder, 
 
 Kittie dear. 
 
 THE CLAM BAKE. 
 
 Held on the Beach, near the Dorian House, Norwalk, Ct., October 33, 18? 
 
 Since first in very tender age 
 I made my bow on Nature's stage 
 To act my part, and fill the plan 
 That God assigns to every man ; 
 Since first I heard, in accents loud, 
 The plaudits of the merry crowd,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 109 
 
 I ne'er before did feel such joy 
 
 Of moments pure, without alloy, 
 
 As when I stood before the throng 1 , 
 
 An honored bard of simple song-, 
 
 On Norfolk's beach, where mirth held sway, 
 
 One ne'er-to-be-forg-otten day ; 
 
 Where tables all were freighted down, 
 
 And every indication bore 
 That plenty would our banquet crown 
 
 With choicest gifts of sea and shore. 
 
 From far Pacific's distant slope, 
 
 Where rivers run o'er g-olden sands, 
 Came brothers full of life and hope, 
 
 With noble hearts and friendly hands. 
 From Maine, where fierce Atlantic's roar 
 Re-echoes on her rock-bound shore, 
 Came representatives along-, 
 With words of cheer to swell the throng-. 
 The Canadas, in regions North, 
 Sent many noble offspring- forth, 
 Whose honest features impress bore 
 Of summer suns and winter's hoar. 
 From Dixie's land, whose name can thrill 
 The tender chords of memory still ; 
 Where tropic breezes waft perfume 
 Around her shore's perennial bloom,
 
 110 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Came brothers, sent with tidings grand 
 
 Of noble deeds in Dixie's land. 
 
 The North, the South, the West, the East, 
 
 Were represented at the Feast. 
 
 No niggard store, no miser's fare, 
 
 But choicest viands, rich and rare ; 
 
 As course on course did disappear, 
 
 Each new succeeding course was near, 
 
 Till appetite at last did say, 
 
 " Our hosts are victors here to-day. " 
 
 E'en then the remnant on the shore 
 
 Would feed as many mortals more. 
 
 As round these bounteous tables sate, 
 
 Within the Wooden-Nutmeg State. 
 
 Old ocean's depths were ransacked o'er, 
 
 To tempt our appetites on shore ; 
 
 And Neptune oft was forced to yield 
 
 The palm to forest, stream and field. 
 
 No epicure could ever wish 
 
 To taste a richer flavored dish ; 
 
 No banquet hall in olden time, 
 
 When Rome her conquering flag unfurled, 
 Its equal spread throughout her clime, 
 
 When reigning mistress of the world. 
 
 And, think you that I mean to slight, 
 By silence, those divinely fair
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. Ill 
 
 The galaxy of beauty brig-lit 
 
 That deigned to grace that banquet there ? 
 And, think you, that my heart is cold, 
 And cast in rugged nature's mold ? 
 My eyes grown dim, obscured by haze, 
 And clouded o'er by lucre's blaze ? 
 Ah, no ! that dear enraptured thrill 
 Of early youth keeps bounding still. 
 When years accumulate on years ; 
 When hoary age brings groans and tears ; 
 When sluggish streams move through my veins 
 And scarce the breath of life remains ; 
 E'en then, in death's dark, dismal hour, 
 I'd own the sway of woman's power. 
 I only fear'd my skill to sing, 
 And make my harp responsive ring- 
 To thoughts, whose sweet, resistless now 
 Comes surging up from depths below, 
 Where woman steers by beauty's chart 
 Around the tendrils of my heart. 
 Her eyes are beacons, flashing bright, 
 
 And when their beams encircle me, 
 I have no fear in darkest night 
 
 To navigate life's stormy sea. 
 
 But one there was amongst the rest, 
 A lady, eloquent and fair ;
 
 112 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 A peerless queen in song- and jest, 
 
 With dreamy eyes and wavy hair. 
 Her words, evoking- smiles or tears, 
 
 Soon won their way through social bands, 
 And played as sweetly round our ears 
 
 As harps when touched by angel hands. 
 And when the parting hour drew nigh, 
 
 We there were 'thralled by beauty's spell, 
 The murmured words: "kind friends,goodjbye" 
 
 The silvery tone : " farewell, farewell." 
 
 She left as left those angels bright, 
 When summon 'd off from mortal ken, 
 
 In dazzling rays of heavenly light, 
 In olden time, from sons of men. 
 
 Kind benefactors, noble men ! 
 
 How may a man from labor's ranks 
 Employ a rude, untutor'd pen, 
 
 To tender you our heartful thanks ? 
 
 My noble Chief, your pardon give, 
 
 If for this moment I aspire 
 To be the Chief Executive 
 
 Of brothers bred to danger dire ; 
 The men who foremost lead the van, 
 
 Who first must feel the deadly shock ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 113 
 
 And who in trying- moments can 
 Stand firm, unflinching 1 as the rock ; 
 
 It is for those, that fearless throng, 
 I fain would have my thanks resound, 
 
 I merely clothe in simple song 
 Your words upon Long- Island Sound. 
 
 Kind benefactors, now I pray, 
 
 May life to you, and all your kin, 
 Be one continued cloudless ray, 
 
 Where Fortune's smiles come teeming- in ; 
 And when life's evening- draws a-nigh, 
 
 When all must kiss the chast'ning- rod, 
 May you to realms beyond the sky 
 
 Be call'd, to dwell in peace with God. 
 'Tis not because of princely fare, 
 
 Nor " Ninety's" speed o'er splendid track, 
 That swift, and safely, bore us there,. 
 
 And safe, and swiftly, brought us back. 
 Ah, no ! but 'tis because you stand 
 
 Where noble friends before you stood ; 
 Who recognized throughout the land, 
 
 Our noble, peerless Brotherhood. 
 
 But hark ! I hear a mighty sound ; 
 'Tis circling near from States remote ; 
 
 It makes the very earth resound, 
 
 8
 
 114 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 As springing- from one sing-le throat ; 
 It is my brothers' thankful cry, 
 
 Which hovers o'er my feeble pen ; 
 Twelve thousand tong-ues resounding- high 
 
 In one sincerely felt Amen. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 Let the bells peal along-, 
 
 With vibrations of song-, 
 On the clear frosty air of the nig-ht ; 
 
 Let them sound in our ears, 
 
 Till they banish our fears, 
 And our hearts feel the thrills of delight ; 
 
 For old Christmas is here, 
 
 And we greet it sincere ; 
 'Tis a time when we sit round the board ; 
 
 Our dear friends from afar, 
 
 Find the doors all ajar, 
 And the larder with good things well stored. 
 
 "Merry Christmas !" we cry, 
 And the glance of each eye 
 Is a sure indication of mirth ; 
 
 Let the wassail bowl flow 
 In the radiant glow,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 115 
 
 Which the fire sends around on the hearth ; 
 
 As the glasses we clink, 
 
 Full of care-killing- drink, 
 Let our toasts of true friendship arise ; 
 
 This one night in the year, 
 
 We can keep back the tear, 
 Which too often is found in our eyes. 
 
 Oh ! I love the dear time 
 That I sing 1 in my rhyme, 
 
 When good will to all men should be found 
 In our hearts and our-brains, 
 And be sung- in our strains, 
 
 Till our voices in union resound. 
 There is time for our care 
 For our grief and despair 
 
 In the months rolling rapidly by, 
 But to-night we must sing, 
 Ere the moments take wing, 
 
 And away from our presence they fly. 
 
 PLEASURE AND PASTIME. 
 
 Thinks I, here's the month pretty near at an end, 
 And how have I squandered my time ? 
 
 I pledged myself, truly, this year I would send 
 Every month to the Journal, a rhyme.
 
 116 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 My subject? I don't know of what I shall write, 
 
 But patience, dear reader, I'll try 
 And give you a confab, took place t'other night, 
 
 Between my old mother and I. 
 
 The noble old dame, with her hair silvered o'er, 
 
 Sat close by my side, at the fire, 
 The ground with the frost of December, was hoar, 
 
 But stilled was the Storm King's ire. 
 Her eyes labored hard thro' the mists of the years, 
 
 To read the Good Word, but in vain. 
 She laid down the book 'mid her fast falling tears, 
 
 And thus, of old age did complain. 
 
 " Oh Shandy, my life-tide is ebbing away, 
 
 The gloom gathers fast, and I feel 
 A dread of the dawn of eternity's day 
 
 That soon shall its terrors reveal. 
 A pilgrimage here on this earth I have made, 
 
 Yet, life has had blessings for me. 
 But Shandy, acushla I.I'm greatly afraid 
 
 An orphan, you shortly will be." 
 
 "My mother," I said, as I kissed her dear brow ; 
 
 Touched lightly by sixty odd years, 
 "Cheer up, let my future not trouble you now, 
 
 No need for your fast falling- tears,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 117 
 
 Because there's an old woman's daughter I know, 
 Possessed of both beauty and grace, 
 
 Who fervently prays to the tomb you may go, 
 Until she steps into your place." 
 
 God bless me ! the change on her features that 
 came, 
 
 Was joyful, indeed, to behold ; 
 Life kindled anew, and you'd say the dear dame 
 
 Was neither decrepit nor old. 
 'Twas always my pkin when she talked about 
 death, 
 
 To tell her, another was nigh 
 Who'd care for her son, she'd recover her breath, 
 
 And the olden time glance of her eye. 
 
 My brothers all you of the Benedict-clan 
 
 Whose wives are inclined to complain, 
 Who'll tell you they're dying, just follow my plan, 
 
 Console them in just such a strain. 
 Yes tell them, as I told my mother that night ; 
 
 I'll wager my life all their aches, 
 Their pains, and their ailments, will quickly take 
 flight, 
 
 If not I will forfeit the stakes. 
 
 " Ah Shandy, you rascal, you'd wish I were dead 
 And out of your sight in the grave."
 
 118 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 " Oh no, my dear mother," I soothingly said, 
 " 'Tis yourself about orphans did rave." 
 
 " But Shandy, confess, you've a wife in your 
 
 eye." 
 "Yes, mother, resplendent in charms, 
 
 And just in a month from the moment you die 
 I'll have the dear girl in my arms." 
 
 " You rascal, I'll live to defeat all your plans, 
 
 When the evening arrives you will see 
 Me step to the altar, forbidding the bans, 
 
 No grandmother titles for me." 
 I kissed her good night, I vacated my seat, 
 
 To meet with as jolly a crew 
 As ever tripped lightly, on musical feet, 
 
 In the ball-room of " One-Fifty-Two." 
 
 Dear reader, in dreams have you ever been bless'd 
 
 With views of those mansions of light, 
 Where souls, weary laden, find refuge and rest, 
 
 In those realms of endless delight ? 
 A counterpart here, on this earth you would find 
 
 That night of our annual ball, 
 The sight would be always engraved on your mind 
 
 Of splendor adorning our hall. 
 
 Flags, banners, and bunting, suspended in air, 
 With mirrors life-size on the wall.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 119 
 
 Choice painting's, selected with excellent care, 
 
 Profusely adorning- the hall. 
 And rare birds, whose melody swell'don the night, 
 
 In waves of voluptuous song, 
 With fountains that played in the chandelier's 
 light, 
 
 Admired by a beautiful throng-. 
 
 The hours flew by on wing-ed feet as we lanced 
 
 To music's most ravishing- thrill, 
 The minutes but seconds all seemed as we danced 
 
 The schottische, the waltz, and quadrille. 
 Gray streaks in the east broug-ht the night to a 
 close, 
 
 The moments too rapidly flew ; 
 A night that will ne'er be forgotten by those 
 
 In the ball-room of " One-Fifty-Two." 
 
 I jumped into bed a short nap to secure, 
 
 In prayers not a second did waste, 
 My eyes were just closed, when a voice at the door 
 
 Said, " Shandy, your wanting in haste, 
 You're marked on the board, so be off with your 
 train," 
 
 The caller exclaimed with a sneer. 
 And up from my heart that was surging in pain 
 
 I cursed him in language sincere.
 
 120 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 MY CASTLE IN SPAIN. 
 
 I've a castle near a wild wood, 
 
 Trellised o'er with ivy green ; 
 Where I've often played in childhood, 
 
 And in older years am seen. 
 There I g-o to sit and ponder, 
 
 After many a toilsome hour, 
 Where my heart can throh the fonder, 
 
 In a sun-lit dreamer's bower. 
 
 In this castle lives a maiden, 
 
 True and tender as the dove ; 
 One whose heart is over-laden 
 
 With the purest kind of love. 
 She has sunny ringlets flowing-, 
 
 O'er her neck and shoulders, too, 
 And her lips are ripe and glowing 1 , 
 
 With the cherry's crimson hue. 
 
 1 have gilded coaches rolling-, 
 
 On the gra veiled walks around ; 
 Blooded steeds, which need controlling-, 
 
 As they restive paw the ground ; 
 But my grooms are skilled and daring-, 
 
 Every man within my train, 
 Who has brand new livery wearing-, 
 
 Loves my castle built in Spain.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 121 
 
 There are trees, where birds, delighted, 
 
 Sing- in chorus loud and long- ; 
 I can never say I'm slighted, 
 
 For they give me joyous song 1 . 
 I have fountains constant playing', 
 
 In the sunlight on the lawn ; 
 And the breeze keeps hammocks swaying-, 
 
 Where my vassals sleep till dawn. 
 
 Mirth and music, fun and laughter, 
 
 Ev'ry moment, all may hear; 
 From the draw-bridge to the rafter, 
 
 There is neither care nor fear ; 
 For each moment has its pleasure, 
 
 And we many bumpers drain, 
 All lio\v o'er with honest measure, 
 
 In my castle built in Spain. 
 
 1 have friends who sit beside me, 
 
 All like brothers tried and true ; 
 They have ne'er been known to chide me, 
 
 ISTor reflect on what I do ; 
 In their eyes I read affection, 
 
 All are sociably inclined, 
 Not a single imperfection 
 
 Can be found in heart or mind.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I have coffers flowing- over 
 
 With the treasures of the land, 
 Where they are you'll soon discover, 
 
 If you'll join my happy band. 
 I will lead you straight and willing 
 
 In amongst the hoarded gain, 
 Where you'll find your bosom thrilling 
 
 At nry riches o'er in Spain. 
 
 'I am monarch of this castle, 
 
 And I reign with royal power ; 
 Not a liegeman nor a vassal 
 
 But may have a prince's dower ; 
 For I ne'er can miss my treasures, 
 
 Tho' they millions take away, 
 Still they'll leave me flowing measures 
 
 To distribute ev'ry day. 
 
 I have musty tomes of learning-, 
 
 Thoughts of men long- dead and g-one, 
 Where I hourly spend discerning 
 
 What their brains were bent upon. 
 Ancient lore, where infant Science 
 
 Struggles into life and day ; 
 Written with a sure reliance 
 
 That upon life's page 'twould stay.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 123 
 
 There Religion, pure and holy, 
 
 At her altars may be seen ; 
 Out amongst the meek and lowly 
 
 Oft she strays with modest mien. 
 In her footsteps all may wander, 
 
 For she leads to light divine, 
 To a castle builded yonder, 
 
 Where the stars of glory shine. 
 
 I would like to stay for ever 
 
 In its grand old massive halls, 
 Where the clouds of care come never, 
 
 Nor a shade of trouble falls. 
 But, alas ! I cannot tarry, 
 
 Save to give my weary brain 
 Time to rest from grievous worry, 
 
 In my castle o'er in Spain. 
 
 AIR CASTLES. 
 
 Dear Kittie : Last night I was building 
 A beautiful castle in Spain. 
 
 I sat ornamenting and gilding, 
 Tormented with torturing pain. 
 
 A voice all around me kept ringing, 
 Like musical peals from above,
 
 124 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Some fair one melodiously sing-ing-, 
 Of compliments, kisses, and love. 
 
 My castle completed, I wandered 
 
 O'er walks of brig-lit, velvety g-reen. 
 One brief little moment I pondered 
 
 On who I'd select as my queen ; 
 The very next moment I found her, 
 
 As Cupid let quiver his dart, 
 And there on my bosom I crowned her, 
 
 The queen of my castle and heart. 
 
 With feeling's of exquisite pleasure, 
 
 We dallied the evening- along- ; 
 'Twas joy to my heart beyond measure, 
 
 To hear her melodious in song-. 
 With compliments, love, and sweet kisses, 
 
 The moments too rapidly flew ; 
 A pause in our melting- caresses 
 
 Soon told me my darling was you. 
 
 "Oh, Heaven !" I cried, "in thy power 
 
 Send blessing-s, the choicest above, 
 To give to my queen in her bower, 
 
 With compliments, kisses, and love. 
 I awoke suffocating- with pleasure, 
 
 The sun throug-li my lattice did g-leam, 
 And faded awaj^ was my treasure ; 
 
 Dear Kittie, 'twas only a dream.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 125 
 
 MOLLIE'S WOOING. 
 
 The moon was just creeping up over the hill, 
 
 As I strolled to the tryst where my lover 
 Was waiting-. My heart with affection did thrill, 
 
 The dear little maid to discover. 
 The nightingale's notes full of melody were, 
 The evening was balmy, the sweet summer air 
 Was laden with bloom of the hawthorne there, 
 And essence of newly-cut clover. 
 
 I found her in tears, but I kissed them away, 
 And both of our breaths were united ; 
 I told her to hurry without more delay, 
 
 Too long our affections were plighted. 
 I showed her the ring and I told her the priest 
 Was waiting with guests to partake of the feast, 
 I could see that her weepingquite suddenly ceased, 
 And she nestled up closely, delighted. 
 
 She feared that her mother would never consent 
 
 To her wedding a light-hearted rover ; 
 "If you take her advice," I replied, "you'll repent, 
 And, besides, you will lose a true lover." 
 "Then we'll marry, she said, "let us hasten away 
 Or my feelings will change if I longer delay." 
 It was thus I won Mollie, the frolicsome fay, 
 Mid the perfume of newly-cut clover,
 
 126 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 TO MISS EMMA AVERY. 
 
 Written after reading her lines on "The Engineer." 
 
 Miss Avery, pardon this freak of my Muse, 
 To-nig-ht she insists on me taking 1 a cruise 
 All over the string's of my harp, for a chime, 
 To tickle your fancy, in shape of a rhyme ; 
 Perhaps I am hasty in making- my bow, 
 And likely to g-et myself into a row, 
 That is if you think I am making- too free, 
 Then tram all your g-uns for a broadside on me. 
 
 I cannot resist the temptation to write ; 
 My g-oosequill is "down in the corner" to-nig-ht, 
 Since reading- your lines so truly sincere 
 In praise of the poor, over-worked engineer. 
 Thinks I to myself " Arrah Shand} 7 , avick, 
 That g-iii's a trump, and she's g-ood for a trick, 
 No nmtter how poor be the cards she may hold, 
 There's one you can't purchase f or blarney or gold. 
 You'll find it a heart, and may wag-er your life 
 That card will yet make her an engineer's wife." 
 
 God knows I have often repined at my lot, 
 When'er the old mill Avasn't steaming- and hot 
 And this is the clime, and the time of the year, 
 To torture the heart of the poor eng-ineer 
 I've many times jumped from the seat in a rag-e
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 127 
 
 And thrown my old hat at the face of the gauge ; 
 My right eye devoted to watching the track ; 
 The left one admiring the pointer trot back ; 
 With snowdrifts ahead, alongside, and behind ; 
 My nose of an indigo hue from the wind ; 
 When slipping, and sliding, and crawling along, 
 No prospect to cheer me, but everything wrong, 
 In midst of such dire desolation, my lot 
 Is sweetened to think we're not wholly forgot. 
 And, mind you, a great many times I could name 
 Of perilous moments which add to our fame ; 
 But what is the use ? I would rather by far 
 Have a seat by your side in a drawing-room car, 
 And whisper my gratitude into your ear, 
 As thanks for your lines on the poor engineer. 
 
 I hope you'll not think I have too much to do 
 By asking a short, little question of you, 
 "Have you a young chap within glance of your 
 
 eye 
 
 Who throws you a kiss as he passes you by ; 
 Who makes you a movement a wave of the 
 
 hand ? 
 
 No matter, so long as you both understand." 
 Your answer to me will be "yes," I'll go bail 
 Your lover is some noble knight of the rail, 
 Who has earned his spurs, and will wear them 
 
 forever,
 
 128 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 By faithful attention to throttle and lever ; 
 If not will you grant my most earnest desire, 
 Reflect, and become Mrs. Shandy Maguire ? 
 
 How happy I'd feel on the railroad of life 
 
 If I had a girl like you for a wife. 
 
 Pd scorn all dangers, privations, and dread, 
 
 My heart would be light, not an ache in my head , 
 
 We'd live just as happy as birds in a cage, 
 
 Surrounded by offspring to bless our old age ; 
 
 And, now, my dear friend, do not think me too 
 
 bold 
 
 By saying you'd suit me, no matter how old. 
 I don't care a fig for a girl of sixteen, 
 No more than I love stealing 1 apples when green ; 
 With grapes 'tis the same, don't we prize them 
 
 the most, 
 And find them delicious, when touched by the 
 
 frost ? 
 
 Don't think your admirer inclined to a joke 
 When saying old pipes are the best for a smoke ; 
 The wreathes from a dudeen are sweeter by far, 
 Than those from a meerschaum, or fragrant ciga r; 
 Just so with a woman, with grapes, and my pipe, 
 She's always the sweetest when lusciously ripe ; 
 These similes all may sound vulgar to you, 
 They're such as I have but you'll find they are 
 
 true.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 129 
 
 In behalf of the boys I return you my thanks, 
 I hope you will win a good prize from our ranks, 
 A brave-hearted, handsome, and dashing- young 
 
 gent, 
 Who'll ne'er give you cause of your choice to 
 
 repent ; 
 
 If such a young fellow you fail to procure, 
 Just drop me a line, and I'll answer you sure. 
 Who knows but together we'll yet have the road, 
 Assisting each other to carry life's load. 
 
 SHOW MERCY TO THE ERRING. 
 
 Show some mercy to the erring, 
 
 Do not kick a brother down ; 
 Let him feel your clasp fraternal, 
 
 And conceal the cruel frown ; 
 For his heart is only human, 
 
 And temptation's very strong ; 
 Had he but superior reason, 
 
 He could guard against the wrong. 
 
 If our hearts were all transparent, 
 
 And exposed to other's view, 
 We might not be so determined 
 
 Fallen brothers to pursue ; 
 
 9
 
 130 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 But while hid from observation 
 Are our many vicious deeds, 
 
 We will swing the lash of torture 
 On our victim 'till he bleeds. 
 
 I have heard "stop thief" resounding 
 
 On the streets before to-day, 
 From the throats of cunning- rascals, 
 
 Who could hide their theft away ; 
 While the luckless wretch who pilfer'd 
 
 A much needed loaf of bread, 
 Was condemned before the people, 
 
 And away to prison led. 
 
 If a sister errs she never 
 
 Can regain the ground she lost ; 
 And her heartless sex are ready 
 
 To condemn her acts the most ; 
 They will not reflect in pity 
 
 On the ills she must endure, 
 But they scourge her with a vengeance, 
 
 While her wronger is secure. 
 
 If we'd judge mankind in mercy, 
 We would surely fill the plan, 
 
 That our Saviour from the Mountain 
 Gave for government of man ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 131 
 
 And perhaps He'd judge us kindly, 
 When we'd stand before His throne, 
 
 For the mercy shown to others 
 Will to us by Him be shown. 
 
 THE REPLY TO "A REQUEST" OF L. C. W. 
 
 Ah ! here comes the Journal, 'tis promptly on 
 time, 
 
 Perusing its pages to me is a pleasure ; 
 I eagerly gloat o'er each letter and rhyme, 
 
 Regardless of purity, diction or measure. 
 Who cares for a lack of grammatical rules ? 
 
 They never were written by critics or scholars, 
 Who boast of the years they have slumbered in 
 schools, 
 
 Then value a man by his number of dollars. 
 
 What's here ? Why a little request, as I live, 
 I judge on perusal it comes from a brother. 
 
 Who, in a few lines, a tough subject can give, 
 When making reply to the son of my mother. 
 
 I never could swallow historical lore, 
 
 'Twas always considered a sign of good breed 
 ing 
 
 To sit with a few of the boys at the door, 
 And mimic all those who were fond of such 
 reading.
 
 132 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 "Perhaps I'm a nobleman traveling- incog-, 
 Who squandered my youth near the lakes of 
 
 Killarney : " 
 
 Perhaps at New York I have seen your phizog, 
 And heard your sweet tong-ue running- over 
 
 with blarney. 
 In heraldry's books noble lineage I trace : 
 
 I am one of the Macs, and will ever stand by 
 
 her; 
 Consigned to oblivion in shame and disgrace 
 
 Be the renegade wretch who would basely deny 
 her. 
 
 I fain would reply to your honest request, 
 
 Provided my Muse was accomplished and 
 
 ready ; 
 Of late she's indulging- in indolent rest, 
 
 And rather inclined to be prudish and steady. 
 And yet what a subject, 'tis worthy the pen 
 
 Of learning's most noble and gifted of sages, 
 
 To sing of fair daughters and brave-hearted men 
 
 That Erin can boast on her history's pages. 
 
 Each hill-top and valley adorning her land, 
 Have witnessed the tide of her sons' crimson 
 
 slaughter ; 
 Her passes had spartans, each brave-hearted 
 
 band
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 133 
 
 Have struggled for freedom till blood ran like 
 
 water. 
 
 And centuries hence, should the fight be prolonged , 
 Her tyrants will find in her cause we grow 
 
 braver, 
 Her martyrs on scaffolds declared she was 
 
 wronged, 
 
 When dying, their latest fond breath was "God 
 save her." 
 
 In life's early years through her gem-spangled 
 
 fields, 
 
 I sported my happiest, sunniest hours, 
 Inhaling perfume that the sweet-brier yields, 
 
 And weaving rich garlands of beautiful flowers. 
 Long years have elapsed since I parted her shores, 
 
 And memory fails to recall early faces, 
 Yet, land of my birth, from my heart's richest 
 
 stores, 
 
 I send you an offspring's fond love and em 
 braces. 
 
 Though dear to my heart is the land of my birth, 
 And worthy of true patriotic affection, 
 
 Yet, dearer Columbia, fair queen of the earth, 
 That gives the oppressed of all nations protec 
 tion.
 
 134 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Oh, long- may her banner float gloriously free, 
 O'er millions of men in fraternal communion, 
 
 Proud emblem of freedom on land and on sea, 
 All hail to the starry-gemmed flag 1 of thisUnion. 
 
 BABY'S WELCOME. 
 
 Come, my baby, till I kiss you, 
 
 On your flushy, frowsy face. 
 You will get a royal welcome 
 
 To our humble little place. 
 We have waited for your coming 
 
 With anxiety sincere, 
 But the Lord be thanked, my cherub, 
 
 You are landed safely here. 
 
 'Tis a world bleak and cheerless, 
 
 Which you've entered to reside, 
 But a heart both brave and fearless, 
 
 Can enjoy its sunny side. 
 We will g-uard you late and early, 
 
 Give you most devoted care, 
 'Till you're old enough to battle 
 
 With its variable air.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 135 
 
 Ah ! your mother's eyes are beaming 
 
 From beneath your tiny lids, 
 And they send me backward dreaming, 
 
 Mongst the songs of Katydids ; 
 By the moonlight, in the valley, 
 
 Where we rambled side by side, 
 On the evening when she promised 
 
 To become my blooming bride. 
 
 Little stranger ! there is pleasure 
 
 In recalling such a scene. 
 I would not exchange my treasure 
 
 For the ransom of a queen. 
 You will find her true and tender 
 
 And affectionate to thee ; 
 She'll be gentle and devoted, 
 
 As she's always been to me. 
 
 When you're old enough to toddle 
 
 With your dimpled hand in mine, 
 We will ramble out together, 
 
 And I'll cull you flowers fine ; 
 We will listen to the warbling 
 
 Of the birds upon the trees, 
 And amid the scented clover, 
 
 We will chase the humming bees.
 
 136 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 We've a cozy cot, to lull you 
 
 Into quiet, peaceful rest ; 
 And you're sure of healthy nurture 
 
 From your mother's tender breast ; 
 And we'll lavish on you kindness, 
 
 And we'll fondle you with love, 
 For you look just like an angel 
 
 Heaven sent us from above. 
 
 HOPE, THE DECEIVER. 
 
 There are moments when life does not seem worth 
 possessing, 
 
 When faint and exhausted we're glad to lie 
 down ; 
 
 When Miss Fortune, instead of donating- a bless 
 ing, 
 Repulses us off with a withering- frown. 
 
 When we count on a share of her manifold treas 
 ures, 
 
 The whimsical jade is uncertain and coy ; 
 And she guards in a miserly manner her meas 
 ures, 
 A portion of which we would gladly enjoy.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 137 
 
 Many times I have tender'd unbounded affection, 
 And earnestly sued for a smile in exchange ; 
 
 But I never yet got her false heart in subjection, 
 Although I have tried till my brains I'd de 
 range. 
 
 She is like a young maiden, light-hearted and 
 
 fickle, 
 Who boasts of her conquests, still seeking for 
 
 more 
 
 Like a fair one who oft kept my heart in a pickle 
 The same as she did many others before. 
 
 But for Hope, the deceiver, in language uncivil, 
 I'd rail at her hourly, for days that are g'one, 
 
 When she treated me worse than her kinsman, 
 
 the Devil, 
 E'en now she deludingly beckons me on. 
 
 I will follow once more and perhaps my devotion 
 May meet from the damsel a fitting reward ; 
 
 Who can tell but at last she has taken the notion, 
 To change into smiles all the tears of the bard ?
 
 138 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO THE ROBIN RED-BREAST. 
 
 Hear the robin red-breast full of harmony trill, 
 As he gathers the crumbs which I placed on the 
 
 sill. 
 
 For his simple repast he repays me in song-, 
 Which he pours from his throat in glad numbers 
 
 along-. 
 
 He is joyous, domestic, and free from all care ; 
 He will hop to within a few feet of my chair ; 
 He is fearless, because of the kindness he's shown, 
 And 'tis seldom he leaves me to ponder alone. 
 
 Little red-breasted warbler, you've found out the 
 
 art, 
 Which your instinct has taught you will reach to 
 
 my heart ; 
 For each note strikes a chord of affection, whose 
 
 tone 
 
 Will respond to no touch but of music alone ; 
 And your melody bubbles in fountains so bright, 
 That I gladly enjoy every song with delight, 
 And I feel full of praise for the gifts you bestow, 
 With your sense-charming song in the sun's 
 
 golden glow. 
 
 'Mongst the denizens winging their way through 
 
 the air, 
 Oh, I prize you the dearest of all that are there;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 139 
 
 For tradition relates at the cross you were found, 
 When the blood of the Saviour flowed to the 
 
 ground, 
 
 And in pity your breast you plunged into the tide, 
 Where it crimsoned your plumage on Calvary's 
 
 side. 
 
 Full of gentleness ever, dear songster, you'll be, 
 And you'll always be welcome, sweet warbler, to 
 
 me. 
 
 TO MRS. E. M. HOOKER. 
 
 DEAR MADAM : 
 
 Since first I was kicked through the portals of life, 
 
 To battle my way in oppression and pain, 
 When seeking subsistence in warfare and strife, 
 
 With naught to assist me but muscle and brain, 
 I've met with far more than my share of the ills 
 That are known to us all as " mortality's pills, " 
 I have seen the cold giance of ineffable scorn, 
 Flung into my face since the hour I was born, 
 And many times, madam, I've fallen by the way, 
 Discouraged, down-hearted, depressed with the 
 
 fray. 
 
 The good I have done as I journey'd along. 
 Was always pronounced inexcusably wrong ;
 
 140 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Suspicion surrounds me, and you 'mongst the 
 rest, 
 
 Accuse me of chasing 1 the bauble of fame ; 
 Dear madam, I hope you were really in jest, 
 
 When thinking me guilty of changing my name. 
 
 What object, in Heaven's name, had you in view, 
 
 To call me so plainly, " a wonderful lyre ? " 
 I'm really surprised at a lady like you, 
 For doubting my name to be Shandy Maguire. 
 That noble old name down the ages has run, 
 Bequeathed by the father to honor the son ; 
 I peer through the gloom of the years, and I trace 
 A noble, a princely, a chivalrous race, 
 Their swords from their sheathes ever ready to 
 
 draw, 
 
 When fighting for justice and scorning the law ; 
 The fat of the land they would always procure, 
 And pass it around through the lean of the poor ; 
 But, madam, alas, what a change from the past ; 
 The sky of the noble Maguires is o'ercast 
 With ominous clouds, this degenerate time, 
 When one of the family figures in rhyme. 
 Tormented by you, and some others whose game 
 Is telling the public I don't know my name ; 
 You i- questions were asked me so often before, 
 They grieved my poor heart till it bled at the core.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 141 
 
 I've many times ran to the mirror, to stare, 
 And see if I really and truly stood there ; 
 Now madam, I'll furnish you proof from a dame, 
 
 Who'll quickly convince you her son is no lyre, 
 And neither afraid nor ashamed of the name, 
 
 That many suspect isn't Shandy Maguire. 
 
 "Dear mother" I always address her as "dear," 
 
 ' 'What is it my son ? ' ' she replied with a laugh 
 
 "Oh, something 1 surprising, I '11 sing in your ear, 
 
 And mother, don't think I am tipping you 
 
 chaff." 
 
 Now madam, I'm skillfully versed in the art 
 Of working my way to an old woman's heart, 
 With young ones, alas ! there's a ditl'erence there, 
 I might just as well whistle jigs to a bear, 
 As make a young woman believe what I s&y, 
 When talking of love in a neighborly way. 
 A certain young lady, for five years at least, 
 I'm asking to let me go talk to the priest, 
 Her only replies are "be patient and cool, 
 Don't bother me, Shandy, you act like a fool." 
 I sometimes believe she is heartless and cold, 
 Perhaps I'll succeed when the darling grows old. 
 
 But back to my subject : "Dear mother, my mind 
 Is sorely distracted, no peace can I find ;
 
 142 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I'm bothered, tormented, derided in scorn, 
 I wish in my heart I had never been born." 
 A moment I paused, to recover my breath, 
 My mother, she seem'd in the stupor of death, 
 She knew every word I expressed was the truth, 
 I never was caug-ht telling- lies in my youth ; 
 Whenever I chanced of an evening 1 to roam, 
 She'd ask in the morning-, the time I came home, 
 I'd tell her the truth, she would say she was sure 
 I didn't make much of a fuss at the door ; 
 I didn't indeed ; she'd be snoring asleep, 
 As in through a window I'd cautiously creep, 
 My boots in my pockets, to g-uard against noise, 
 When having a game of " Ould Sledg-e " with the 
 
 boys. 
 
 I slept with my brother, an urchin called Mick, 
 And he was the rooster could tumble and kick. 
 His feet at an ang-le of ninety degrees 
 Would fly in a tang-enib away from his knees ; 
 He'd hurl me out of the bed, in his might, 
 To dream on the floor all the rest of the night. 
 I dare not complain, as that boy was no fool, 
 Altho' he ne'er saw the inside of a school. 
 He'd rifle my pockets of Killikinnick, 
 He'd smoke my old pipe till his stomach grew 
 
 sick, 
 He'd make me divide all the pennies I'd win,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 143 
 
 To keep him from telling the way I got in. 
 Again I am off in what seems but a dream, 
 
 A dear, happy dream of my juvenile years ; 
 Now madam, I'm back to yourself and my theme ; 
 
 Spun out till the close amid fast falling- tears. 
 
 "Dear mother, come gaze on me, straight in the 
 eye, 
 
 And answer my questions, don't think me in 
 
 fun, 
 Please give me a candid and truthful reply, 
 
 For Heaven's sake tell me if I am your son ? 
 Are you my old mother ? be sure you are right, 
 Does Shandy Maguire stand before you to-night ? 
 Or is it some other spalpeen in his place, 
 Who's bringing the family name to disgrace ? 
 Sometimes in the South I'm advancing a claim, 
 And beating the boys on the strength of my name, 
 Again, in the West, in a round-house I'm seen, 
 Soliciting alms in a manner that's mean, 
 Right here, at my home I find little relief, 
 The story flies round, I 'ma pilfering thief ; 
 Such rumors are really injurious, because 
 The Lord only knows where the villains will 
 
 pause ; 
 
 I wouldn't at all be surprised if I'd hear 
 The sheriff was playing with hemp at my ear,
 
 144 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And sending me off from the troubles of life 
 For running away with another man's wife. 
 Or some such a mean, inexcusable crime, 
 Bad luck to the day I first jingled a rhyme ; 
 Since then I can date many ills, for I swear, 
 I'm troubled just now with far more than my 
 
 share. 
 
 'Oh, what's in a name ?' said a moonshiny youth, 
 Whose course of true love wasn't steered among 
 
 flowers, 
 
 I really can't tell about his, but in truth, 
 Dear mother, I think there's the devil in ours." 
 
 Like a sprig of sixteen, the old girl arose, 
 
 Her knitting unconsciously fell from her hand, 
 Her spectacles dropped from her eyes to her nose, 
 
 And there in amazement before me did stand. 
 "Poor boy," were the words she expressed, "what 
 
 a loon ; 
 
 You're always deranged at the full of the moon." 
 " There are two of us so," I replied ; then her eye 
 
 Suggested a hint from her reach to retire. 
 My very next chance, I'll embrace it and try 
 
 To prove to you, madam, I'm Shandy Maguire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 145 
 
 LOSS OF THE SCHOONER "PERSIAN," ON 
 LAKE HURON. 
 
 Sad and dismal is the tale, 
 
 Which I'll relate to you, 
 About the schooner Persian, 
 
 Her officers and crew, 
 Who sank beneath the stormy deep, 
 
 To rise in life no more ; 
 Where winds with desolation sweep, 
 
 Lake Huron's rock-bound shore. 
 
 They left Chicago on their lee, 
 
 Their sing-ing- did resound ; 
 All hearts were full of joyous glee, 
 
 As homeward they were bound ; 
 They little thought the monster, Death, 
 
 Was lurking in the deep, 
 And they, so full of life and hope, 
 
 Should in the waters sleep. 
 
 In mystery their doom is sealed, 
 
 They did collide some say, 
 And that is all will be revealed 
 
 Until the judgment day ; 
 When the angel takes his stand, 
 
 To 'wake the waters blue, 
 And summon forth, by heaven's command. 
 
 The ill-starr'd Persian's crew. 
 
 10
 
 146 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 No mother's hand was there to press 
 
 The brow's distracting- pain ; 
 No gentle wife, with kind caress, 
 
 To soothe the aching- brain ; 
 No lover there, no sister nig-h, 
 
 Nor little ones to weep ; 
 In wat'ry graves henceforth they'll lie, 
 
 Beneath the stormy deep. 
 
 Her g-allant captain is no more, 
 
 He fills a seaman's grave ; 
 Beneath the deep, off Huron's shore, 
 
 Where wind-tossed waters rave ; 
 Unknown the spot, and hid from view 
 
 His manly, lifeless form ; 
 And stilled in death the tar so true, 
 
 Who weathered many a storm. 
 
 Daiu'el Sullivan, her mate, 
 
 A tar as bold and brave, 
 As ever was compelled by fate, 
 
 To fill a sailor's grave ; 
 He will be weeped for as a friend, 
 
 Alas ! his days are o'er, 
 He met a sad, untimely end, 
 
 Near Huron's rock -bound shore,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRB. 147 
 
 Oh, Dan, your many friends will mourn 
 
 That fate did on you frown ; 
 We'll look in vain for your return, 
 
 To your adopted town ; 
 We'll miss the love-glance of your eye, 
 
 Your hand we'll press no more, 
 For stilled in death, old friend, you lie 
 
 Near Huron's rock-bound shore. 
 
 Her sailors' names we did not know, 
 
 Excepting- one or two ; 
 Down in the deep they all did go, 
 
 They were a luckless crew. 
 Oh, not a man escaped to land . 
 
 To clear the mystery o'er, 
 Until they drift, by heaven's command, 
 
 In lifeless form ashore. 
 
 Around Presque-Isle, the sea-birds scream 
 
 In mournful notes along ; 
 They're chaunting forth the requiem, 
 
 The dismal funeral song ; 
 They skim along the waters blue, 
 
 And then aloft they soar, 
 In memory of the Persian's crew, 
 
 Near Huron's stormy shore.
 
 148 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO " MOBILIAN." 
 
 " Mobil ian," all the dreamy past, 
 In fond array, each friendly face 
 That 'round me in those days were cast 
 Your lines recalled. I love to trace 
 The scenes at eve where oft I've strayed ; 
 The myrtle bower, the silent glade, 
 The star gemin'd sky of deepest blue ; 
 The walk where lovers went to woo, 
 The balmy waves of rich perfume, 
 From orange groves where all was bloom ; 
 The nightingale's sweet plaintive song-, 
 By zephyrs borne swift along, 
 Until the atmosphere around 
 Gave echo to the charming sound ; 
 The bay, its shores, the grove, the hill, 
 Are all enshrined in mem'ry still 
 And stereotyped upon my heart. 
 
 Your lines awoke the dreamy whole 
 They moved by panoramic art 
 
 Through silent mansions of my soul. 
 
 When groping through the gloom of years, 
 When toiling on in grief and pain, 
 
 With scarcely time to chase the tears 
 That dim the eye and flood the brain, 
 seldom backward turn to view
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 149 
 
 Those scenes that wear a roseate hue ; 
 Scenes, with a retrospective eye, 
 We trace, amid those days g-one by, 
 Where, heart entwined in heart, the twain 
 Have lived, and feared not future pain, 
 Until the parting moment drove 
 Them far away from scenes of love. 
 Your lines awoke a plaintive thrill 
 That haunts the halls of mem'ry still, 
 And I, my friend, to-night would fain 
 Prolong 1 the melancholy strain, 
 But ruder scenes of toil and strife 
 
 Command me hence. " Mobilian " dear, 
 Where'er my lot be cast in life, 
 
 I'll always keep your precepts near. 
 
 FATHER MATHEW TEMPERANCE SOCIETY. 
 
 OSWEGO, N. Y. TENTH ANNIVERSARY, 1878. 
 
 Old mother, a decade of years have sped on 
 Since I, a poor waif, weather-beat by the storm, 
 
 Approached you to take the proud title of "son," 
 And muster myself in your ranks of reform. 
 
 At annual feasting I've always been here, 
 
 To read you a song and partake of your cheer ; 
 
 To-night by the laws of both custom and love,
 
 150 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I come, as of yore, my affection to prove ; 
 And till but one drop of my life- tide remains 
 Till it stops at my heart and congeals in my veins, 
 In joy, or in sorrow, in mirth, or despair, 
 In tempest, or sunshine, foul weather or fair, 
 The years shall still find me as onward they glide, 
 In person or spirit right here at your side ; 
 I speak from experience, my words bear their 
 weight, 
 
 Through waves of temptation I've passed and 
 proved true, 
 
 I've yielded obedience both early and late 
 To all the wise rules promulgated by you. 
 
 So much for myself, now, my noble, old dear, 
 I'll on with my task without further delay ; 
 Please grant me a moment or two at your ear, 
 
 To talk of affairs in a family way. 
 Bethink you the time when you first settled down 
 And made your abode in this tax-ridden town, 
 With looks of suspicion your coming was chilled, 
 But soon our old homestead grew gloriously 
 
 filled ; 
 In here came the husbands when led by their 
 
 wives, 
 
 And pledged to live sober the rest of their lives. 
 So times sped along and our numbers increased,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 151 
 
 And guest followed guest to partake of the feast, 
 With song-, and with chorus, in mirth and good 
 cheer, 
 
 We drifted away from rum, whiskey and beer. 
 We sat here for hours meditating on rules ; 
 
 Lawmakers were scarce in our midst, but a few 
 Spruce,dignified Solomons,fresh from the schools, 
 
 Supposed they could act as it pleased them to do. 
 
 But, mother, acushla ! we loved you too well, 
 We sprang to our posts and we shortened their 
 sails, 
 
 We made a short job of each long-talking swell, 
 By shaking a small grain of salt on their tales. 
 
 Temptation crept in and dissensions grew rife, 
 
 They threatened, alas ! to deprive you of life ; 
 
 But, darling ! you live, you survived ev'ry shock, 
 
 We soon drove the black-sheep away from the 
 
 flock. 
 
 To those who were honest and truly sincere, 
 We always rewarded their efforts in here ; 
 And honored them well, as our records will show, 
 With every good gift in our power to bestow. 
 To those who proved traitors and fell by the way, 
 Alas ! who can tell where they're scattered to 
 day ? 
 Some lie in their graves and some live to complain,
 
 152 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And curse their misfortune for drinking- again. 
 
 Many more, and I'm sure that their numbers 
 are scores, 
 
 They sought an excuse to escape through our 
 doors. 
 
 You saved them, and then they denied you sup 
 port, 
 
 They scamper'd away to some other resort. 
 
 Like birds when full-fledged, they deserted the 
 nest, 
 
 And they soug-ht other scenes, well, perhaps they 
 
 done best. 
 You've more, your young- grandsons, who think 
 
 they are wise, 
 
 They wish you to look more refined in their eyes ; 
 
 They scoff at their father's good counsels, and say 
 
 Their granny they'll deck out in fashion's array, 
 
 They'll "re-organize you," whatever that means, 
 
 I see by the droll-looking- glance of your eye, 
 
 You'll never elope with those g-ents in their teens, 
 
 Who'd quickly desert you and leave you to die. 
 
 Dear mother, now banish all troublesome fears, 
 Your first-born sons have been ever the same, 
 
 They've guided you on o'er the pitfalls of years, 
 And here by your side they will add to your 
 fame, 
 
 Let old Time roll along-, let the 3 T ears pass us by,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 153 
 
 We have strength to protect you, our foes we'll 
 
 defy. 
 There is peace here and plenty for those who can 
 
 shun, 
 
 The deadliest poison known under the sun. 
 Moral suasion's the weapon we always emplo3*, 
 When we meet with the foe that our lives would 
 
 destroy ; 
 
 Prohibition may do for those slow moving 1 bands, 
 Who invoke legislature to strengthen their 
 
 hands. 
 
 Our success won your smiles for a decade of years. 
 We are robust and .hearty to-night, my old 
 
 dame, 
 And our features are wreathed with smiles, 'stead 
 
 of tears, 
 Which we'll wear evermore if we honor your 
 
 name. 
 
 TO THE AUTHOR OF " SUNDAY LABOR." 
 
 You ask what I think of this Sabbath-day work, 
 
 Or if there is cause to complain, 
 When a man is denounced as a " good-for-naught 
 shirk" 
 
 For refusing to go with his train ? 
 Your questions I'll answer as well as I can
 
 154 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 With all the respect that is due 
 To one of your sex, from a kind-hearted man 
 Who'd kneel and pay homage to you. 
 
 By jo ve ! I am truly in love with your pen ! 
 
 Your Muse is defiantly hold, 
 Such women as you are worth more to their men, 
 
 Than their weight of the dross we call gold. 
 If you have a sister, unmarried, I swear 
 
 I'd like the dear creature to woo ! 
 There's nothing would brighten my prospects 
 more fair 
 
 Than a chance to claim kindred with you. 
 
 With Sabbath-day work we're not troubled much 
 here, 
 
 We thank Mr. Phelps and Sam Sloan ; 
 They give us those fift3 T -two days every year 
 
 For sins of the week to atone. 
 On Sabbath-day running that's all I can say, 
 
 Because I'm not "pinched by the shoe," 
 But, madam, hereafter on Sunday I'll pray 
 
 For God to have pity on you. 
 
 Now, madam, draw near, I will whisper a plan, 
 Should the like ever happen again, 
 
 You'll find it will aid and assist the "old man," 
 If he don't want to go with the train.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 155 
 
 Don't have any fear for him losing- his job, 
 
 Providing- you'll faithfully do 
 Your part, with a truly affectionate throb 
 
 Of wifely devotion in you. 
 
 Those engine despatchers are hard chaps to fool, 
 
 They doubt every mournful tale. 
 But madam, I'll give you a short, simple rule 
 
 I have never yet known it to fail : 
 He then can respond to a call with a will, 
 
 Providing- your part you will do 
 The engine despatcher will see he is ill, 
 
 And back he will send him to you. 
 
 Rub the poor fellow's tong-ue with a morsel of 
 chalk, 
 
 'Twill make it look sickly and white ; 
 Hit the ' tickle-bone ' in his left elbow a knock ; 
 
 His pulse any doctor will fright ; 
 Then, tell him his mother-in-law g'ot a fall, 
 
 And died from effects of it too. 
 His features will blanch, and his look will appal 
 
 The engine despatcher, and you. 
 
 Clasp hands across States, this acquaintance 
 
 beg-un 
 
 'Twixt you and myself must not end. 
 And, madam, I tell you, devoid of all fun,
 
 156 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I'm proud to be classed as your friend. 
 Write on for the edification of those 
 
 Who hazardous labor pursue, 
 Pour in your hot shot to the camps of our foes, 
 
 And soon they'll strike colors to you. 
 
 WHERE DO THE WICKED SLEEP? 
 
 "Where do the wicked sleep, sexton, come tell ? 
 Where in your gioomy domain do they dwell ? 
 Are they apart from the true and the just ? 
 Here are their bones left to mingle in dust ? 
 Point out their graves so I'll trample in scorn 
 Over them, fiends from the hour they were born. 
 Where are they hidden ? No name can I trace ; 
 Only the just are interred in this place. 
 
 Epitaphs telling- of brave men and true, 
 Chiselled in marble, exposed to my view ; 
 Virtues abundant lie under the ground, 
 None but the uprig-ht of earth have I found. 
 Surely you know where the wicked are laid, 
 Here where you hid them, with mattock and 
 
 spade ; 
 
 Sexton, its bearing-s, pray have you forg-ot ? 
 Where do the wicked sleep ? point out the spot.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 157 
 
 Here mausoleums and obelisks tell 
 Only where virtue and righteousness dwell. 
 Think you the wicked could peacefully rest 
 Here in such holiness, here 'mid the blest ? 
 Monuments grandly on all sides arise, 
 Telling- of pure angels called to the skies. 
 Sexton, for decades you've wielded the hoe, 
 Where do the wicked sleep ? surely you know." 
 
 "Thirty long years have I wrought in this soil, 
 Thousands were brought who required my toil ; 
 Never came one but was deeply deplored, 
 All had been called to reside with the Lord. 
 Stranger, you know what the proverb has said : 
 'Speak only good when you mention the dead.' 
 Judging by words which I heard at each bier, 
 Only the just have I buried in here. 
 
 "Seek you elsewhere, but I fear you will fail. 
 Human decisions don't always prevail. 
 Judgments erroneous from mankind depart. 
 No one yet fathomed the depths of the heart. 
 Springs there lie hidden, unknown, unexplored, 
 Sealed to the vision of all but the Lord. 
 He, from his throne with an allseeing eye, 
 Onlv can tell where the wicked ones lie."
 
 158 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 "ONLY A TRAMP." 
 
 " He's only a tramp," said the papers, 
 
 When telling- the news of the day, 
 Of how a poor man was discovered, 
 
 Just breathing- his last by the way. 
 And that was the epitaph written ; 
 
 And scarcely his spirit had fled, 
 When many around him had gathered, 
 
 To morbidly g-aze on the dead. 
 
 Messieurs, let us pause and consider, 
 
 Rig-lit here o'er his mortal remains ; 
 A clue we, perchance, may discover, 
 
 'Twill be a reward for our pains. 
 From whence had he come, and bound whither, 
 
 His birth-place, and name to denote ; 
 What's this ? Ah ! Messieurs, 'tis a letter 
 
 Concealed in the breast of his coat. 
 
 We'll read : " My dear husband, this letter 
 
 I write to you, hoping- 'twill be 
 Another strong- link in love's fetter, 
 
 Which binds you so closely to me ; 
 My heart's dearest throbs of affection 
 
 I send to you, darling-, and pray 
 Kind Heaven, for health and protection, 
 
 And speedy success on your way,"
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 159 
 
 " Our children are silently sleeping- ; 
 
 I many times kiss them for you ; 
 But Freddie is ailing- from weeping-, 
 
 And baby is troublesome too. 
 Yet cheerfully, darling-, I labor 
 
 'Till you some employment secure, 
 I'm helped by a kind-hearted neighbor, 
 
 Who feels for the friendless and poor.'' 
 
 " This morning our Jennie ran sprightly, 
 
 To kiss me, she whispered me : ' ma, 
 Kind ang-els converse with me nightly, 
 
 And give me g-ood tidings of pa.' 
 God favor our little romancer 
 
 With virtuous dreams all her life. 
 Impatiently 'waiting- your answer, 
 
 Your faithful, affectionate wife." 
 
 Then silently stood each spectator ; 
 
 Their eyes were o'erflowing- with tears ; 
 Their lips where the name of Creator, 
 
 Had never been mentioned for years 
 Were now breathing prayers full of pity 
 
 To God, with an earnest desire 
 For those in a far distant city, 
 
 Deprived of a husband and sire,
 
 160 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The tale can be told by that letter, 
 
 Denied all employment at home, 
 His wretched condition to better, 
 
 Away o'er the land he did roam. 
 Repulsed by continued denials, 
 
 He came to seek rest on this sod, 
 At last there's an end to his trials, 
 
 He rests with a merciful Go.d ! 
 
 And "only a tramp " said the papers, 
 
 When telling the news of the day, 
 Of how that poor man \vas discovered 
 
 Just breathing his last by the way ; 
 That was the brief epitaph written ; 
 
 But scarcely the letter was read 
 Till many Samaritans gathered, 
 
 To tenderly care for the dead. 
 
 TO DOCTOR REYNOLDS. 
 
 Dear Doctor, long I've thought your Muse was 
 
 dead, 
 
 With laurel wreathed 'round her honored head ; 
 But when your poem, written for the Times, 
 Came duly to me with its silvery chimes. 
 I learned, then, there was no cause for weeping, 
 Because the dame has not been dead, but sleeping.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 161 
 
 My worthy friend, your grand, heroic strain, 
 Recalls the battle scenes of strife again, 
 And by the genius of your gifted pen, 
 You've lauded Hancock as the prince of men, 
 And urged your hero to the foremost place, 
 To make him win the Presidential race. 
 Your honest purpose, I, for one, admire, 
 But vain the labor of your gifted lyre ; 
 While Tilden lives, and he aspires to run, 
 You might as well fire off a " quaker " gun 
 As broadsides such as you're discharging here, 
 For Doctor, Tilden has the race-course clear. 
 
 My brother bard I will such kinship claim 
 Altho' my Muse is yet unknown to fame, 
 While yours may hover in sublimest flights, 
 And soar around the grand Olympic heights, 
 Mine, poor and lowly, in her native sphere 
 Is recognized on some occasions here. 
 I now suggest a short co-partnership, 
 'Twixt you and I upon a rhyming trip ; 
 We're sure to make a good, successful cruise, 
 And either one must own the lucky Muse. 
 Here are nry plans : You must let Hancock slide, 
 He cannot stem the fierce politic tide ; 
 Then chorus up for Grant, I will for Tilden sing, 
 
 They both are centers of each inner ring-. 
 
 11
 
 162 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 If Grant should win we'll have the Empire sure, 
 And then, old friend, you can repose secure. 
 Sir Lawrence Reynolds you are sure to be, 
 Besides, a bone you oft can throw to me. 
 When plenty loads your noble tables down 
 In days when he will wear the kingly crown. 
 
 If Tilden wins, then by the Lord, I swear, 
 I'll give you, Doctor, sure, the lion's share ! 
 I'll grind him rhymes out at a railroad pace, 
 And labor hard until he wins the race ; 
 Then dine and feast you like a brother true 
 On dishes very seldom touched by you, 
 Provided, Doctor, you a cook do know, 
 Who understands the making hash from crow. 
 
 THE RHYMER TO HIS PEN. . 
 
 Come here, my old pen, till we ramble along, 
 In the regions of fancy and the realms of song. 
 Disentangle the rushing, tumultuous throng 
 
 Of thought-mazes, wild in my brain. 
 Now down in the ink, and my subject will be 
 Whatever runs freely, beneath this green tree ; 
 If you prompt it in scorn or chorus in glee, 
 
 I'll gladly prolong the refrain.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 163 
 
 You've many times suffered your share of abuse, 
 Since plucked from the wing- of Peg- Flaherty's 
 
 g-oose, 
 Because, my old friend, you have failed to produce 
 
 A smile on the features of all . 
 But, know you, the numerous critical pack, 
 Who rush in their ire to encumber our track, 
 May suffer the torture of thumbscrew or rack, 
 
 If on them with vengeance you fall. 
 
 True sportsmen have never perverted their aim 
 
 By firing at fowl not regarded as game, 
 
 And you, my companion, must do just the same, 
 
 Regardless of ignorant fools, 
 Who seek to deride every stanza you sing- ; 
 And, like an assassin, their implements fling-, 
 To silence your strain with their envious sting ; 
 
 We scorn all their laws and their rules. 
 The Lord in His majesty wisely designed 
 A wonderful mixture to make of mankind ; 
 Oh, many he dwarfed both in person and mind, 
 And spread them abroad o'er the earth. 
 Each movement and gesture, each action and 
 
 shape, 
 
 Resembles entirely their grandfather ape, 
 You'd think from some jungle they made their 
 escape 
 
 But Darwin accounts for their birth.
 
 164 SHANDY MAGUIEE. 
 
 What stench-pools of filthy corruption there lie 
 Concealed in the hearts of the villains who try 
 To seek after slander, and then magnify 
 
 The few simple words which they hear 
 A hundred fold more than the facts may disclose, 
 And then, with their eyes hang-ing- down on each 
 
 nose, 
 They'll run with the stutf to our deadliest foes, 
 
 And pour their foul tales in each ear. 
 
 Some women are first to discover a trail, 
 And slander a sister, denounce her as frail ; 
 Their bitter opinions they'll add to the tale, 
 
 Wherein if we only could see 
 Such saints, when Temptation is hovering- near, 
 And pouring- a passionate plea in each ear ; 
 Methinks they would merit their share of the 
 sneer 
 
 They throw 'round derisively free. 
 But some are well versed in the art to conceal 
 The treacherous moments from virtue they steal, 
 And those are the ones who unscabbard the steel, 
 
 To cut with Satanical ire 
 The heart of a sister who falls by the way, 
 Forg-etting-, meanwhile, their dear selves are but 
 
 clay, 
 But poor human nature, too prone to obey 
 
 The beck of each tempting- desire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 165 
 
 " Old Pen ! we are often obliged, to endure 
 The taunts which are flung at the friendless and 
 
 poor, 
 By those who to-day are in sunshine secure, 
 
 To-morrow the clouds may arise ; 
 If so, we will note them on life's rugged road, 
 To see how they'll carry adversity's load, 
 Methinks they will quiver when pricked by the 
 
 goad, 
 
 And sigh after sunnier skies." 
 
 TO THE CENTENNIAL COMMITTEE OF ONE 
 HUNDRED. 
 
 Messieurs, 'tis a whimsical turn 
 
 Of fancy that prompts me to write, 
 But fires patrioticly burn 
 
 Deep down in my bosom to-night ; 
 And up from my heart comes a chorus 
 
 A clear, ringing, chorusing cheer, 
 When thinking of pleasure before us 
 
 This joyous Centennial year. 
 
 In you, then, my honored committee, 
 We place the full power to employ 
 
 A plan to enliven our city 
 Three days in the month of July.
 
 166 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The programme already suggested 
 
 Is excellent, sirs, in its way, 
 And I, by the boys am requested, 
 
 A word on the subject to say : 
 
 We've twenty-one towns in this county, 
 
 All peopled with patriots true, 
 Who'll come to partake of our bounty 
 
 And see what we city-folk do. 
 From now until then they'll keep scanning 
 
 The papers and programmes, to see 
 The plans the Committee are planning 
 
 For this, our Centennial spree. 
 
 Announce in large letters each wonder 
 
 We have from all parts of the earth, 
 Let cannon belch forth in loud thunder 
 
 The dawn of the century's birth. 
 Send broadsides of congratulations 
 
 To neighboring States, and proclaim 
 Abroad to remotest of nations 
 
 Our love for great Washington's name. 
 
 Don't brood o'er next charter election, 
 Or questions therewith to arise, 
 
 Because there's a little objection 
 To some of us drawing- a prize.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 16? 
 
 Besides, in political breakers 
 The most skillful pilots we've found, 
 
 When steering amongst the slate-makers, 
 We're run high and dry on the ground. 
 
 Now sirs, get your programmes in order, 
 
 And scatter them broadcast ; be sure 
 That plenty goes over the border, 
 
 Our neighbor's from thence to secure. 
 Expense do not spare advertising, 
 
 The sights which await them in store, 
 Historical, novel, surprising, 
 
 When once they set foot on our shore. 
 
 Let nothing abridge our enjoyment, 
 
 Let pleasure, for once, have full sway, 
 We'll all have some other employment, 
 
 A century hence from to-day. 
 The reservoirs south of our city, 
 
 With little expense can be made 
 Thirst quenchers, my honored Committee, 
 
 And flow through our streets lemonade. 
 
 Such actions will pass down the ages, 
 Surviving the shock of old Time ; 
 
 Each name upon history's pages, 
 Will loom in the future sublime.
 
 168 SHANDY MAGU1RE. 
 
 One hundred years hence, what a story 
 Each sire will relate to his son, 
 
 Of deeds full of honor and glory, 
 Their noble old forefather's done ! 
 
 Let each take his share of the labor, 
 
 And not from his duty refrain ; 
 Who shirks off his part on his neighbor 
 
 May hear from my hardship again. 
 My pen, I can scarcely control it, 
 
 It's favorite theme is abuse, 
 Just because I unwittingly stole it 
 
 Last week, from an Alderman's goose. 
 
 Remember, we're first among nations 
 
 Existing to-day on the earth ; 
 Now work, sirs, and make preparations 
 
 To greet such a century's birth. 
 This may be our last time together 
 
 On such an occasion ; I fear 
 Will meet with a spell of hot weather, 
 
 Before next Centennial year !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 169 
 
 TO MADAM REBECCA. 
 
 (A RKPLY TO HER ARTICLE HEADED " SHAXDY MAGUIRE REVIEWED.") 
 
 Oh ! Madam Rebecca Dear Madam, .1 mean 
 My heart is o'erflo wing with rapturous pleasure 
 Because in your loving- review I have seen 
 The objects 1 sought for, my long wished for 
 
 treasure. 
 
 I've courted old women through life b}^ the score, 
 Made love to the widows a dozen or more ; 
 I've sat with old maids till I thought I could spy 
 A faint little " yes " in each man-hunting eye ; 
 I've sighed till I'm certain I saw in the air, 
 Fading off from my lips the grim ghost of despair, 
 As awkwardly sitting I'd gnaw my caubeen, 
 To shun the keen glance of a maid of sixteen. 
 But, all in their turn refused me so cool, 
 They caused me to think 1 was really a fool. 
 I next in the Journal fished round for a mate, 
 And, save a few nibbles, untouched lay the bait, 
 
 Till you, my own treasure and long sought for 
 
 dove, 
 
 Sent deep in my heart the first spark of true love. 
 It was smoke all the others created, but you 
 Have set me in flame with your loving review. 
 I'd read it, then pause, and I'd read it again, 
 At home, in the roundhouse, or running my train ; 
 I'd gloat o'er the lines with an eager delight,
 
 170 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And, Madam, I swear though the act you'll 
 be scorning 
 
 I took that review into bed t'other night 
 
 To clasp it up close in my bosom till morning. 
 
 Next dawn from a couch of sweet dreams I arose ! 
 
 Bewildered, delighted, like many another. 
 I scarcely took time to get into my clothes, 
 
 Till off on Love's pinions I flew to my mother. 
 I showed her the Journal, I read your review, 
 I told her a wife I discovered in you. 
 I then, rich in fancy, enlarged on your charms, 
 And said I would soon have you clasped in my 
 
 arms. 
 
 " Dear mother, I know she is comely and fair, 
 In natural curls I fancy her hair ; 
 Her eyes must be bright can out rival the stars, 
 My schoolmaster said were called Venus and 
 
 Mars ! 
 
 Her lips, like the cherries on Fogarty's tree ! 
 So tempting of yore to an urchin like me ; 
 Her teeth, a whole mouthful of pearls, and white 
 As new fallen snow in the sun's dawning light ; 
 Her lips, I imagine, dear mother of mine, 
 Look just like a lily when smothered in wine ? 
 Her arms are just what I need when we're wed 
 To serve me for pillows each night for my head . 
 Her bust, and her fair incomparable mien,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 171 
 
 Will be a fit shrine for a husband's devotion ; 
 And, mother, I'll cling- to that beautiful queen 
 
 Till summoned to cross over Time's troubled 
 
 ocean. 
 " Oh, Shandy ! my first-born, beautiful one ! 
 
 I pity your case and I'll try and console you ; 
 For proving- throug-h life a good, dutiful son, 
 
 I'll not let this Madam Rebecca, cajole you. 
 'Tis plain to be seen you're bewitched, I can trace 
 The spell of the siren o'erclouding- your face. 
 You love-stricken fool, what a picture you draw 
 To g-ain my consent for a daughter-in-law. 
 Wherein, like myself, she is wrinkled and gray, 
 One eye artificial, her bones in decay ; 
 Her curls clipped off from some poor girl's head ; 
 Or may be her hair is a carroty red ; 
 Her teeth are not pearls, but bones, far between, 
 Like milestones, with colorless lips for a screen ; 
 Her bust and her waist are both padded and filled; 
 Besides, like yourself, at a rhyme she is skilled. 
 In the April number she struck up a tune, 
 Like the bay of a dog at a mid-winter moon, 
 I'll read yOu this extract, your passion 'twill kill ; 
 A sample she ground in her doggerel mill : 
 " Then 'tis wheeze and cough and chow chow, 
 Now puff and blow and pow pow. 
 Back a jerk, forward a jump,
 
 172 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Couple to and then a bump, 
 A turn of the wheels, a scuff and clatter, 
 A shriek of the whistle, quadrupeds scatter, 
 The train moves forward, patter, patter." 
 
 My son, she put that on the point of the dart, 
 
 That cupid let drive at your bachelor heart. 
 
 'Tis a sweet little song, can you give it an air, 
 And rattle it off on the string's of your lyre ? 
 
 Troth, Shandy, you'll both make a musical pair, 
 If e'er she'll be Madam Rebecca Maguire ! 
 
 Oh madam ! 'Tis plain to be seen the old dame 
 
 Will never permit both our life-tides to mingl e ; 
 But, dearest! I swear by my love's glowing flame, 
 
 If you but consent I'll no longer live single. 
 I'll act disobediently once in my life, 
 'Tis I not my mother who's seeking a wife. 
 And, mind you, my idolized, musical dame, 
 'Tis just as you say about changing my name. 
 If Shandy don't suit you then Handy will do ; 
 Most anything, darling ! that's pleasing to you, 
 Because I'm determined together we'll run. 
 
 I don't care a pipe full of F. G. tobacco, 
 For all my old mother just preached to her son, 
 
 Providing you're satisfied, Madam Rebecca.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 173 
 
 LINES WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A 
 WIDOWED FRIEND. 
 
 Dear Paddy, friend and brother, 
 
 And companion of my youth, 
 Alas ! you're now a widower, 
 
 I pity you in truth. 
 A wave of kind compassion 
 
 Is sweeping- o'r my soul 
 When thinking-, darling Paddy, 
 
 Of the grief you can't control. 
 
 Oh, yes, you'll weep in sadness 
 
 For the " dear departed dove, 
 Now soaring 1 with the angels, 
 
 'Round the throne of God above." 
 By heaven ! there are thousands, 
 
 Yes and tens of thousands, too, 
 Who'd weep one eye in darkness, 
 
 To be free to-night like you ! 
 
 I know your "darling- Kittie," 
 
 Was a true and faithful wife, 
 More faithful than the husband 
 
 She was wedded to in life. 
 I also know, dear Paddy, 
 
 (And I'll keep the fact in view) 
 How the "darling dear departed," 
 
 Once did " mitten " me for you.
 
 174 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 My boy ! I will console you 
 
 With an epicedian strain, 
 I am at it now. dear Paddy, 
 
 I am tortured with the pain ! 
 I'll send it to the Journal, 
 
 With the letter I've received, 
 So thirty thousand readers 
 
 Can behold how much I'm grieved. 
 
 " In tears you will lament her, 
 
 Till the gracious King above, 
 Will send for you to join her, 
 
 In that home of peace and love !" 
 Now, Paddy, let me tell you, 
 
 (And to this you will agree,) 
 If you're received in Heaven, 
 
 There's a chance for such as me." 
 
 You must scourge your wicked body, 
 
 Yes, and holy-stone your soul, 
 Before you can pass muster, 
 
 At the call of Heaven's roll ; 
 It is hard to fool St. Peter, 
 
 There's a duplex system there, 
 And all must have a ticket, 
 
 Who would climb the golden stair !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 175 
 
 Dear Paddy, list a moment, 
 
 Do not let your passion rise, 
 When I tell you : not a blubber 
 
 From your heart ran to your eyes ; 
 You may have squeezed a moisture, 
 
 Like that monster of the Nile, 
 We all have read of, Paddy, 
 
 Called "the weeping- crocodile !" 
 
 You mention in your letter 
 
 HOAV you'll live for Kittie's sake, 
 A sad and lonely widower, 
 
 No other bride you'll take; 
 You'll woo no other woman, 
 
 Till your life-tide ebbs away 
 " The divil thrust you, darlint !" 
 
 As my country-women say. 
 
 I'll wager my existence, 
 
 That before she's dead a year, 
 You'll be promenading-, Paddy, 
 
 With your hat hung- on your ear ; 
 You'll be hunting up another, 
 
 And a fox as old as you 
 Must have a tender chicken, 
 
 My old sport, you're forty- two !
 
 176 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 In justice to dear Kittie, 
 
 With a tender, heartfelt sigh, 
 For days long- fled forever, 
 
 In happy times gone by, 
 I'll pen you here an epitaph 
 
 She earned it well in life, 
 And very few deserve it 
 
 "Here lies a faithful wife." 
 
 Take one advice I give you : 
 
 Keep mute as mute co,n be, 
 Don't breathe a word in anger 
 
 For singing thus to thee, 
 Because and here I swear it 
 
 If you make the slightest noise, 
 I'll sing your name and number 
 
 Next month for all the boys. 
 
 THE JOYS OF LABOR. 
 I hate to hear the clap-trap cry, 
 
 Ascend at every grand ovation, 
 Until it reaches to the sky, 
 
 From every toady in the nation 
 How labor is a God-sent gift, 
 
 And labor's sons we love as brothers, 
 Who, by their manly toil and thrift, 
 
 Do honor to their noble mothers.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 177 
 
 Messieurs, ye gem-bespangled throng 1 , 
 
 Whose tongues are with the blarney coated, 
 'Tis you who well may sing that song 
 
 At banquets, where choice wine is noted ; 
 Then spread your words wide o'er the land 
 
 By telephones, and daily papers, 
 That always lend a willing hand 
 
 To eulogize your sumptuous capers. 
 
 When such harangues gush from your throats, 
 
 We bless your kind fraternal feeling ; 
 We never think you want our votes 
 
 Oh, no ! you'd scorn such double-dealing. 
 Perhaps a thin-skinned fool like me 
 
 Is envious of my wealthy neighbor ; 
 But come, Messieurs, and soon we'll see 
 
 The blessings found in "honest labor." 
 
 I'll be a self-appointed guide, 
 
 And lead you to the various places ; 
 We'll view the looks of high-born pride, 
 
 On all who wear " proud labor's " traces. 
 'Tis now the welcome hour of noon, 
 
 And here's a shop with groups reclining ; 
 Step in, and we'll discover soon, 
 
 On what these sons of toil are dining. 
 
 12
 
 178 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 Come, view this dark, inferior bread ! 
 
 Be patient, sirs ; what makes you nutter ? 
 Is it because it weighs like lead ? 
 
 Or just because it lacks of butter ? 
 All meats are rather scarce, you see ; 
 
 Their butchers must have failed to slaughter. 
 And here, in lieu of wines or tea, 
 
 They have a pail of "sparkling- water." 
 
 The meal is o'er ; we'll now prepare 
 
 To hold a little conversation ; 
 We'll make some spokesman tell the share, 
 
 They get for building- up this nation : 
 " What news, my boys ; How fares the day ? 
 
 Do Plenty's smiles come kindly beaming ? 
 Does hope shine forth with prosperous ray, 
 
 Around your future pathway gleaming ? 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " said one upon whose brow, 
 
 The plow of care cut many a furrow ; 
 " Bright Hope is smiling on us now, 
 
 And means to do the same to-morrow ; 
 Our food consists of smiles of Hope ; 
 
 Messieurs, 'tis good, substantial feeding ; 
 It saves us from the hang-man's rope, 
 
 And checks our woundsfromconstant bleeding.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 179 
 
 "What right have we, poor slaves, to frown, 
 
 To dare to think or dare to ponder 
 On why you cut our wages down, 
 
 Or why our heart-strings burst asunder ? 
 When hunger's pangs our vitals gnaw 
 
 Or when half-clad .in freezing weather, 
 Why shouldn't we bless the glorious law 
 
 That keeps our bodies and souls together ? 
 
 We're made of Nature's coarsest clay ; 
 
 Our wives and brats, why, keep them starving, 
 Inferior brood what right have they, 
 
 To grumble while our fates are carving ? 
 Then train your dogs with savage skill, 
 
 To drive the pauper band in fury ; 
 What matter if they one should kill, 
 
 While you can buy the judge and jury ? " 
 
 The whistle's sound soon ceased the talk; 
 
 With sullen and sarcastic bearing, 
 Away they went in sullen walk, 
 
 As motionless we stood there, staring. 
 Messieurs, such movements mean a dire, 
 
 Disastrous, fierce, internal friction, 
 Which yet may burst in flames of fire, 
 
 Beyond the power of laws' restriction,
 
 180 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 COME AND NESTLE UP CLOSELY, MY DARLING. 
 
 Come and nestle up closely, my darling ! 
 
 Dearest girl with the long- raven hair. 
 You can sing- in my arms like a starling 1 , 
 
 You delight me when ever you're there. 
 Let the world wag away with its bother, 
 
 While your heart is up closely to mine ; 
 We will whisper fond hopes to each other, 
 
 For you know I am faithfully thine. 
 
 Should the darkness of grief beat around us, 
 
 And the clouds of misfortune arise, - 
 They will ne'er have the power, love, to wound us, 
 
 They will soon disappear from our skies. 
 When your lips touch my soul, as I press them, 
 
 I will drink at the fountain my fill ! 
 With a miserly greed I'll caress them, 
 
 And I'll keep them as slaves to my will. 
 
 When your arms circle round me, my treasure ! 
 
 I will fancy the angels are near ; 
 I'll enjoy ev'ry moment of pleasure, 
 
 As I list to your pledges sincere. 
 Then the years may unfold all their sorrows ; 
 
 We have faith to surmount ev'ry ill, 
 Which shall come with the gloomy to-morrows, 
 
 For our hearts shall beat truthfully still.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 181 
 
 BLIGHTED HOPES. 
 
 One night, as in an easy chair 
 
 I sat, perusing 1 mystic lore, 
 I heard a footstep on the stair, 
 
 Then came a knocking at my door ; 
 The hour was late, the taper's ray 
 
 Scarce lit the dreary midnight gloom, 
 Yet, at my call, without delay, 
 
 A visitor stepped in the room. 
 
 A man he was, and in his eye 
 
 I marked a sad, peculiar grace, 
 As if bright hope had passed him by, 
 
 And sought some other resting place ; 
 His years they numbered manhood's prime ; 
 
 His haggard glance the story told 
 That care outstripped the march of Time, 
 
 And made him prematurely old. 
 I welcomed him and bade him rest, 
 
 He made a common-place reply ; 
 His voice touched springs within my breast, 
 
 Which long I thought were parched and dry. 
 
 " My friend ! and can it really be 
 
 'Tis you, returned home at last, 
 Who trod life's morning road with me 
 
 In days long numbered with the past ?
 
 182 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Speak out, why leave me in suspense ? 
 
 Your voice is all I recognize, ^ 
 
 Long days gone by you went from hence, 
 
 And wandered off 'neath stranger skies.' 
 
 I paused, and his extended hand 
 
 I clasped with old-time, boyish glee ; 
 I welcomed him to father-land, 
 
 Who, years had roved o'er land and sea. 
 In failing voice my guest began 
 
 To tell his tale, 'mid falling tears, 
 How he had strayed, as boy and man, 
 
 Across the waste of many years. 
 But from his lips the tale must fall ; 
 
 Each plaintive note of pent-up grief 
 My Muse will re-produce, that all 
 
 May read a life-page sad, but brief. 
 
 " A score of years have nearly ran 
 
 Their varying, changing course along, 
 Since I, allured by hope, began 
 
 To mingle with life's struggling throng. 
 My father's home amongst the trees ; 
 
 My mother's reverential air, 
 As morning, noon, and night, her knees 
 
 Would bend in pious, heart-felt prayer, 
 For God to bless our humble cot,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 183 
 
 And all assembled 'round therein ; 
 Alas ! too soon they were forgot, 
 
 Exchanged for gilded ways of sin. 
 Intoxicating draughts I sought, 
 
 I quaffed, too deep, the midnight bowl, 
 I drained its dregs, but never thought 
 
 How soon I could pollute my soul. 
 Being cast in Nature's stalwart mould, 
 
 Such word as fear I ne'er have known. 
 Too fiercely brave, too bravely bold, 
 
 Endowed with muscle, nerve and bone. 
 I never paused to count the cost 
 
 Of wild debauch on strength and mind ; 
 Through many golden years I lost, 
 
 I never cast a glance behind. 
 One day there came in mourning guise 
 
 A little note, 'twas quickly read, 
 'Mid choking sobs and tear-dimm'd eyes, 
 
 It told my noble sire was dead. 
 To deeper depths I then went down ; 
 
 I neared the verge of crime's abyss ; 
 Saw firey eye-balled demons frown ; 
 
 Heard shrieks and groans and serpents hiss. 
 I fled, the fiends of hell gave chase, 
 
 And on my heels pursued me fast. 
 
 A mother's prayers soon won the race, 
 And reformation came at last !
 
 184 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I started on life's road anew, 
 
 I met a girl of witching- grace, 
 With flowing hair of sunny hue, 
 
 And brilliant mind, and handsome face. 
 I loved as only man can love, 
 
 I grew a boy at heart again, 
 And for her sake I fondly wove 
 
 A future bright, untinged by pain. 
 
 I crowned her empress of my heart ; 
 
 I knelt before her vestal shrine ; 
 And e're we tore ourselves apart, 
 
 She pledged eternal love with mine. 
 I left her then to seek for fame 
 
 Among the busy haunts of men, 
 And for her sake to win a name, 
 
 By aid of voice and guileless pen. 
 She seemed the counterpart of me, 
 
 Her very life, her hopes and fears, 
 She said within my heart I'd see ; 
 
 And note no change in future years. 
 She then became my guiding star ; 
 
 How oft my weary brain has sought 
 To ward away the conflict's jar, 
 
 By sweet companionship of thought. 
 My pen was powerless to portray 
 
 Upon the paper's ample page,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 185 
 
 My burning- love, each closing- day ; 
 
 The very moments seemed an age, 
 That I have lingered in suspense, 
 
 Until I'd get a fond reply ; 
 'Twould cheer my heart, and soothe each sense, 
 
 When reading with a gloating eye 
 But why prolong this painful theme, 
 
 To scourge my lacerated mind ? 
 'Twas all a curs'd delusive dream, 
 
 That left its venomed stings behind. 
 E'en now in memory she is near, 
 
 The dirge of by-g-one days to toll. 
 My friend, forgive this falling- tear, 
 
 She lured me with a perjured soul. 
 My peace of mind's forever g-one, 
 
 My heart for sweet contentment gropes ; 
 This was the cap-stone placed upon 
 
 My pyramid of blig-hted hopes." 
 
 His words grew incoherent wild. 
 
 He paused to gain a moment's rest. 
 Again he raised his head and smiled, 
 
 As hope had dawned within his breast. 
 " But friend," he said, " our boyhood days 
 
 Have many treasured gems in store, 
 How oft my retrospective gaze 
 , Grew bright, amid those scenes of yore.
 
 186 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 'Mid joyous scenes of early youth 
 
 My memory often backward stole, 
 To live again and seek for truth 
 
 In dreamy mansions of the soul. 
 But past, forever fare-you-well ! 
 
 The present has no joy for me, 
 The future, ah! what tongue can tell 
 
 The joy or grief w T hich in it be ? 
 I recognize the power divine, 
 
 That wraps it up in mystic gloom, 
 Yet, rays of hope around it shine, 
 
 To light my soul beyond the tomb." 
 
 I CANNOT SING TO-NIGHT, LOVE. 
 
 I cannot sing to-night, love, 
 
 For I've an aching brow ; 
 I feel affection's blight, love, 
 
 Descending on me now. 
 I've sipped the nectar sweet, love, 
 
 Upon your lips that grow ; 
 But then, 'twas pleasure fleet, love, 
 
 And now I'm sunk in woe. 
 
 I cannot sing to-night, love, 
 My voice has lost the charms
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 187 
 
 Which gave you once delight, love, 
 
 When circled in my arms. 
 The sweet, delusive thrill, love, 
 
 I felt when you were near 
 Now feels an aching- chill, love, 
 
 From pledges insincere. 
 
 I cannot sing to-night, love, 
 
 For all your witching snares, 
 And features sparkling bright, love, 
 
 Can't win those joyous airs 
 Which oft I sang to you, love, 
 
 In blissful moments past, 
 When you have pledged me true, love, 
 
 That joys like those would last. 
 
 I cannot sing to-night, love, 
 
 I'm passion- tossed with pain, 
 I wish you'd leave my sight, love, 
 
 And ease my 'wilder'd brain 
 But, stay, your features, dearly, 
 
 Delude me as of yore. 
 I'll dream you love sincerely, 
 
 And sing you one song more !
 
 188 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 OUT OF THE SHOP. 
 
 I'm out of the shop, where I've been for repairs; 
 
 Yes, out of the shop, where I've lingered for 
 
 years; 
 Once more in the cab, putting- on all the airs 
 
 That ever were thought of by gay engineers. 
 I've got a rebuild of the "monkey-wrench" kind ; 
 
 I've also been "daubed with a bucket of paint ; ' ' 
 And boys, ere the close of this year you shall find 
 
 I can yet bring a smile to the phiz of a saint. 
 
 Where are the old friends whom I've met with 
 
 of yore ? 
 Are all of them yet 'mid earth's turmoil and 
 
 strife ? 
 
 Or have they set brakes on eternity's shore, 
 With trains safely brought up the grades of 
 
 this life ? 
 From north, boys, to south, from the west to the 
 
 east 
 There were many heroes I'll miss from the 
 
 throng, 
 
 Who've often sat down with myself at a feast, 
 And drained a full glass to my merit-less song. 
 
 But, boys, I have tears for the graves of our dead ; 
 I also have smiles which you plainly can trace, 
 For each gallant lad who is fighting for bread,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 189 
 
 Upon an old mill, with a black smoky face ; 
 Who'll stand in the cab and with sinews of steel ; 
 
 If danger's ahead be prepared for the shock 
 And then down the bank with his engine he'll reel, 
 
 His throttle still clasping, unflinching as rock. 
 
 My mother once said : " Arrah, Shandy take 
 care, 
 
 And keep out of danger as long as you can ; 
 A hero may die, but, my son, I declare 
 
 A coward can live all his days like a man." 
 I have always been known as a dutiful son ; 
 
 I'll take her advice when there's danger 
 
 around ; 
 The heroes may take my whole share of such fun, 
 
 For I shall step off on a soft spot of ground. 
 
 Keep up your insurance, protect well your lives ; 
 You can t tell the moment old Death with his 
 
 shears 
 
 Shall straggle around and bequeath to your wives 
 
 A few thousand dollars to dry up their tears. 
 
 Then, boys, how they'll dress in rich billows of 
 
 black ! 
 
 With veils drooping down o'er each grief- 
 stricken face ; 
 When once they are sure that you cannot come 
 
 back 
 Another will squander the dimes in your place.
 
 190 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Old Time, if I only could hamper your flight, 
 
 Or scatter contentment for all in your wake, 
 I'd make my old harp-string's melodious to-night, 
 And sing a sweet song for the sad hearts that 
 
 ache. 
 
 My mission would be 'mid the lowly and poor, 
 Whose hunger-pinched faces are haggard and 
 
 thin, 
 
 Who scarcely can keep the mad wolf from the 
 door, 
 
 That comes to devour the half starved ones 
 within. 
 
 Oh, Lord ! it is sad, what we daily behold, 
 
 To see how the poor are derided on earth ; 
 To see how they're tortured with hunger and cold, 
 
 While struggling for life from the moment 
 
 of birth, 
 With heart-rending pains, and the manifold ills 
 
 That crawl through our frames till we shiver 
 
 . and shake, 
 With sickness and sorrow,convulsions,and chills, 
 
 Which clasp us as tight as a Westinghouse 
 brake. 
 
 By gracious ! a tear has just rolled from my eyes ; 
 Old Muse, ere next month you must alter your 
 
 strain, 
 Soar up, and away, to those bright, sunny skies.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 191 
 
 That gleam far above our old 'Castle in Spain.' 
 'Tis there we can warble in satire and mirth, 
 
 And sing- undisturbed as we both may desire ; 
 There's not such another dear spot on this earth, 
 
 For you, and your frolics, and Shandy Maguire. 
 
 BURY THE PAST. 
 
 Oh, bury the past, my boys, 
 
 Be sure you bury it deep ; 
 
 If not it will surely rise, 
 
 Like ghostly faces in sleep ; 
 
 I mean the remorseful past, 
 
 Which many men call " wild oats," 
 
 If not it will hold you fast, 
 
 With vengeful grip at your throats. 
 
 When by the style of the years, 
 Which leads down the vale of life, 
 Perhaps it may save some tears, 
 From many a faithful wife ; 
 And don't be at all surprised, 
 Unless you have hearts of stone, 
 When keeping the past disguised, 
 You'll save some tears in your own,
 
 192 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 You may count your beads all day, 
 
 And mutter your aves out, 
 
 To keep the specters away, 
 
 If once they're let roam about ; 
 
 It is best to sink them deep 
 
 Where all kindred criminals dwell, 
 
 For a long 1 eternal sleep, 
 
 If down you should dig 1 to hell. 
 
 Then keep from their graves away, 
 Through all of your future days, 
 If not, when your head is gray, 
 A furnace may round you blaze. 
 This counsel given in rhyme 
 Should on your memory last, 
 Perhaps it may guard from crime, 
 If down you bury the past. 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON LIFE. 
 
 When the sun of life is shining, 
 Ere a cloud begins to rise, 
 
 To bedim the glorious lustre 
 Of our bright meridian skies, 
 
 Then, my boys, we must remember 
 That his beams don't always staj 7 ,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 193 
 
 To enliven up the evening 
 
 Of that fast approaching- day, 
 When the gloomy ills shall gather, 
 
 And with penetrating- force, 
 Travel reckless throug-h our bodies 
 
 In a devastating- course ; 
 Bearing- daily grim reminders, 
 
 That our manhood's boasted prime, 
 Is most surely drifting- downward 
 
 On the tidal-waves of time. 
 
 When the turkey-tracks all g-ather 
 
 On each florid looking- brow, 
 Where old father Time sits gloating 
 
 'Mid the furrows of his plow ; 
 When the silver threads are streaking 
 
 Through redundant heads of hair, 
 And the rheumatism driving 
 
 Us through torture and despair ; 
 When the belladonna plasters 
 
 Are prescribed to help each back, 
 As we try to fool the doctor, 
 
 Cursing driving-springs and track ; 
 He will listen quite attentive, 
 
 Should our friends be standing near, 
 But when once they leave our presence 
 
 He will thunder in each ear : 
 
 13
 
 194 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 " If you wish to know your ailment, 
 
 I will tell you simple truth, 
 You are now a holy martyr, 
 
 Caused by piety in youth ; 
 And with bolus, pills, and plasters, 
 
 I shall have to overhaul 
 The lost motion of your body, 
 
 Or a helpless wreck you'll fall." 
 What a splendid consolation, 
 
 As we suffer in our grief, 
 To be told that from our ailments 
 
 There's no permanent relief ! 
 
 Now, my dinner-pail companions, 
 
 Who mix gold dust in your tea, 
 Every day, instead of sugar, 
 
 So you'll spend your money free, 
 Give attention to the future 
 
 As you stroll through summer flowers, 
 Find a cozy place of shelter, 
 
 From the winter's piercing showers ; 
 Save up all the little trifles, 
 
 Put extravagance to rout, 
 Keep the crimson from your noses, 
 
 And be careful of the gout. 
 For with present rates of wages, 
 
 The most skeptic must agree,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 195 
 
 If you practice from my precepts 
 
 You'll be millionaires, like me ; 
 And each honest face will brighten 
 
 With a buckled-crown-sheet smile, 
 As you contemplate your savings, 
 
 When they run you by the mile ! 
 With what thoughts I sit and listen 
 
 To those eloquent divines, 
 Who drink deep of inspiration 
 
 From the choicest brands of wines ! 
 Which enable them to thunder 
 
 Texts of Scripture in our ears, 
 Telling- how the road to Heaven 
 
 Has been built on human tears ; 
 And the wrecks upon the sidings 
 
 Are a vicious, sinful band 
 Of garroters and marauders, 
 
 Who'll ne'er see the Promised Land ! 
 Oh ! 'tis then I feel rebellion 
 
 Running- madly through my veins, 
 When I think how faint with hunger, 
 
 And 'mid many aches and pains, 
 How 'mid cold and desolation, 
 
 Or 'mid summer's burning rays, 
 We must struggle for existence 
 
 Through this world's winding ways ; 
 And when all the fight is over,
 
 196 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 As we fall upon the sod 
 When the summons is delivered 
 
 To appear before our God- 
 Then to find the tribulations 
 
 Of the honest, ill-starred poor, 
 Beside all the dire misfortunes 
 
 We were called on to endure, 
 Are a mass of bitter curses 
 
 In this life to undergo, 
 Ere our Maker shall condemn us 
 
 Into everlasting 1 woe ; 
 While our rich and reverend teachers, 
 
 Blest with luxury from birth, 
 May take sleeping-cars to heaven 
 
 When they're called away from earth ! 
 
 Ah ! the strife may be unequal 
 
 Here 'mid earthly hills and vales, 
 But, beyond the tomb, dear reader, 
 
 There's a cherub at the scales, 
 Who will guard the balance fairly, 
 
 And see justice done to those 
 Who have fought their way courageous 
 
 'Mid a multitude of foes !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 197 
 
 PROSPERITY'S PET. 
 
 Miss Fortune, indeed, is a whimsical dame, 
 
 And a difficult damsel for mankind to woo ; 
 She shuffles life's cards, then sits watching- the 
 game, 
 
 To see the stakes won by her favorite few. 
 There's one of the winners I've watched for some 
 
 time, 
 
 Whose changes we '11 trace in the folio wing rhyme . 
 In girlhood's young years, unassuming and plain, 
 Till wealth with its joys nearly muddled her brain, 
 And filled her with moonshiny notions so full, 
 That good common sense had forsaken her skull. 
 Put beggars on horseback they'll canter to well 
 
 You know the old saying, 'tis somewhat pro 
 fane. 
 Old goosequill, to duty, and truthfully tell 
 
 The reader a tale in satirical strain. 
 
 Dear reader 'tis only a few years ago, 
 
 A verdant young girl, named Julia Ann Brown, 
 Drove a green-grocer cart, up and down, to and 
 
 fro, 
 
 Selling garden produce on the streets of the 
 town. 
 
 In a calico dress thrifty Judy was clad, 
 Looking lanky and lean, without bustle or pad, 
 To the apings of fashion and dressmaker's art
 
 198 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 She was wholly unknown, perched aloft on her 
 
 cart, 
 Selling 1 onions, tomatoes, beans, turnips, and 
 
 squash, 
 
 Adding dimes into dollars and hoarding- the cash. 
 The j^ears sped along- o'er this vender of greens, 
 And Judy sped with them away from her teens. 
 Prosperity smiled. The potato-bug- swarm 
 Dealt havoc around, but avoided her farm ; 
 The harvest arrived, and a plentiful store 
 Of potatoes g-ave Judy the ducats g-alore. 
 
 Since then there's a chang-e in the life of Miss 
 
 Brown. 
 
 The upstart aspires to be belle of the town. 
 I saw her last Sunday, she stood in the porch, 
 Arranging- her dress to parade into church ; 
 Then onward she went with a butter-milk smile, 
 And a strut like a goose, up the carpeted aisle. 
 She was late by design, so her style we could 
 
 view, 
 And the length of her train as she went to her 
 
 pew. 
 Bending o'er in devotion devoutly she sat, 
 
 While all in that vast congregation did stare 
 At the -beautiful plume that she wore in her hat, 
 As she seemed to be wholly absorbed in her 
 
 prayer.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 199 
 
 Ah, Judy ! I wish I could teach you a truth, 
 
 That art with its minions may labor in vain 
 To give to your features the freshness of youth, 
 Or temper the public's cold glance of disdain, 
 Too long- have you peddled your wares on the 
 
 street, 
 
 And bantered away with each housewife you'd 
 meet, 
 
 To think we'd forg-et what you were when you 
 
 rode 
 In your father's old coat, buttoned up to keep 
 
 warm, 
 Each cold chilly day on the top of a load 
 
 Of potatoes and pumpkins you raised on the 
 farm. 
 
 TIME'S VISIT. 
 
 One nig-ht 1 sat in dreamy mood, 
 
 Enwrapped in semi-gloom, 
 No living- soul did there intrude 
 
 Within my cozy room. 
 The embers in the little grate 
 
 Were dying-, one by one, 
 As there I sat, to meditate 
 
 On days long- passed and gone.
 
 200 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Each fading- spark my fancy wove, 
 
 Until it did appear 
 Like some old friend, I once did love, 
 
 With friendship most sincere ; 
 In happy days, long passed and gone, 
 
 Which I shall always prize, 
 Before the clouds of care rolled on 
 
 To dim those morning skies. 
 
 I dreamed in semi-concious state, 
 
 'Till drowsiness did creep ; 
 And, as the last spark left the grate, 
 
 My eyes were closed in sleep ; 
 How long I slept I cannot tell, 
 
 Perhaps an hour or more, 
 'Till roused up by the midnight bell 
 
 And knocking at the door. 
 
 Perhaps some poor, belated man, 
 
 Is seeking fire and food ; 
 To let him in, I quickly ran, 
 
 He'd share my solitude ; 
 The bolt flew back, there stepped within 
 
 That little, cozy place, 
 A curious being, with a grin 
 
 Upon his wrinkled face !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 201 
 
 In speechless awe I mutely gazed, 
 
 * 
 
 Until the stranger spoke ; 
 " Rouse up ! don't seem so much amazed, 
 
 I came to have a smoke, 
 And chat awhile with you, my lad ; 
 
 For we've been friends for years ; 
 You've known me when your heart was glad 
 
 And also in your tears." 
 
 " My name is Time, you know me now ?" 
 
 "Ah, yes," I said in fright, 
 " Your mark is here upon my brow. 
 
 I thought of you to-night ; 
 In fact, you're ever in my mind." 
 
 He then replied : " Much crime 
 In all your dreamy moods I find, 
 
 Wherein you slaughter Time." 
 
 " You drive along in reckless haste, 
 
 You never stop to pause 
 Upon the many hours you waste, 
 
 You disregard my laws ; 
 But, know you, I will win the race, 
 
 Although your strides are fleet ; 
 Effectively I will efface 
 
 The earth-marks of your feet.
 
 202 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Like many more, you think you've got 
 
 A lease of endless joy ; 
 I called such foolish thoughts to blot 
 
 From out your brain, my boy. 
 You'll find the years will roll along 
 
 With steady, noiseless tread, 
 And lay their cygnet mark upon 
 
 Your visionary head. 
 
 I've traveled from creation's birth, 
 
 Adown the countless years, 
 Which swiftly flew across the earth ; 
 
 I've witnessed human tears, 
 Enough to make an ocean, vast 
 
 As space between the polls ; 
 And noticed untold wrecks drift past 
 
 Of lost, despairing souls. 
 
 "For youth my measured pace is slow, 
 
 Their blood in surging tides 
 Keep bounding, with resistless flow, 
 
 To urge their headlong strides. 
 Age supplicates me to delay ; , 
 
 My speed exhausts his breath, 
 And when he falls 'longside the way, 
 
 He's gathered in by Death."
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 203 
 
 "Yourself is not so anxious now 
 
 To see the seasons fly 
 As when bright curls o'er your brow 
 
 Half hid each dancing- eye. 
 You've sobered down, and love the fire, 
 
 Besides, an easy chair, 
 And peevishly, in churlish ire, 
 
 You wrangle much with Care." 
 
 "Behold that puff of smoke ascend, 
 
 And now it disappears ; 
 'Tis fleet as human life, my friend, 
 
 And prototypes the years ; 
 They come, they go, and puny man, 
 
 With all his boasted skill, 
 Has but a lease of briefest span, 
 
 His mission here to fill. 
 
 " Don't think like other hair-brained fools, 
 
 In every age and clime 
 You can defy my golden rules, 
 
 And steal a march on Time. 
 I'll be a victor o'er the graves 
 
 Of all the human race, 
 And I'll conceal, 'neath murky waves, 
 
 Their earthly resting place."
 
 204 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 He ceased, and vanished from my sight, 
 
 Just as the streaks of day 
 Were penetrating- through the night, 
 
 With tints of morning's gray. 
 In sadness I reflected on 
 
 The many things he said, 
 Before I threw myself upon 
 
 My uninviting bed. 
 
 A VISION OF THE NIGHT. 
 
 T'other night I had a vision, 
 
 And it filled me with surprise. 
 Sure I dreamt I was transported 
 
 Far away beyond the skies, 
 Till, just outside Heaven's portals, 
 
 I was placed with tender care, 
 And I knocked and sought admission 
 
 Into blissful mansions there. 
 
 Soon the gates were slowly opened 
 By a sanctimonious chap, 
 
 Who demanded what I wanted 
 In my greasy clothes and cap.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 205 
 
 I explained and gently told him 
 
 That I " read my title clear " 
 Down on earth among the snow-drifts, 
 
 As a half starved engineer. 
 
 " Come right in, my worthy brother," 
 
 Said St. Peter, "I am sure 
 That I've never punched a ticket 
 
 Since I've stood upon this door, 
 Half so worthy of admission 
 
 As this one you bring to hand, 
 From the snow-drifts and poor steamers 
 
 Of that northern Yankee land." 
 
 I was dazzled with the splendor 
 
 I beheld on every side ! 
 I was placed within a chariot, 
 
 And was given quite a ride 
 'Round among some lucky angels, 
 
 Who for twenty years in mirth, 
 Have been residents of Heaven, 
 
 Since I missed them from the earth. 
 
 Oh ! I recognized old timers, 
 Who blasphemed in days gone by, 
 
 When they were detained for orders, 
 Or on sidings had to lie ;
 
 206 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And I asked the saintly Peter 
 
 How they got in Paradise. 
 He replied: " By running- scrap-piles 
 
 With the flanges full of ice." 
 
 
 
 " Are there any kid-gloved-gentry 
 
 Here on Canaan's happy shore ; 
 Such as ten-per-cent-reducers, 
 
 Of the panic days of yore ? " 
 Then his scowl looked liked the Heavens 
 
 When tornados fiercely blow, 
 As he shook his saintly noddle, 
 
 And just pointed down below ! 
 
 " Are there any applications 
 
 For admission through your gates, 
 From among- some gay conductors, 
 
 Who have charge of local freights ? " 
 Said the Saint : " They come here begging, 
 
 But I take a loaded club 
 And I knock them down to blazes, 
 
 Where they're caught by Beelzebub." 
 
 Sure he made me so delighted, 
 
 That I asked him in a joke, 
 If he'd switch aside the chariot, 
 
 Till we'd have a social smoke,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 207 
 
 Oh ! he answered me quite gayly, 
 And his smile was most serene : 
 
 " Yes, I'd thank you kindly Shandy, 
 For a whiff from your dudeen." 
 
 
 
 There we sat and smoked together, 
 
 Like a jolly pair of boys. 
 " 'Tis the first time," said his Saintship, 
 " That I've tasted Heaven's joys ; 
 Your old pipe is so delicious 
 
 That it kind o' roils my head." 
 
 " Smoke it slowly, then, my bouchal, 
 
 And may Heaven be your bed. 
 
 " Are there many dead-head tickets 
 
 Here presented at the gate ? " 
 " Yes, my boy ; I've counted millions, 
 
 But 1 quickly seal their fate ; 
 They come up and try to pass me, 
 
 Just because their dying- day 
 Is employed donating treasure 
 Which they cannot bring away." 
 
 " Are there any railroad supers 
 
 'Round about us to be seen ? " 
 (t They are like hen's teeth," said Peter, 
 " Very few ? and far between,"
 
 208 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 " Where are all those train despatchers 
 Who could pull so many cars ? " 
 
 " They are down below my hearty, 
 
 With their noses through the bars." 
 
 " Can you tell me if you ever 
 Saw the patentee come in, 
 Of the famous Mack injector ? " 
 Sure the Saint begun to grin. 
 " Yes, my boy ; he's quite convenient 
 
 To the place we're sitting- here. 
 And his pass read : ' Benefactor 
 To the railroad engineer ! ' 
 
 " Do you ever have directors 
 
 From a road that pays in scrip ? " 
 
 " No, indeed, I don't," said Peter, 
 " They all take a downward trip ! " 
 
 " Well, from roads of heavy traffic, 
 Where they pay us by the mile ? " 
 
 " Do you take me for a booby ? " 
 Said his Saintship, with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, be gor ! I don't, your honor, 
 Though I never went to school, 
 I can tell by looking at you 
 That you're far from being a fool ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 209 
 
 Yet, I thought I'd ask a question, 
 
 As I know of two now dead, 
 Whom I swear could beat the devil." 
 " They're still with him ! " Peter said. 
 
 " I suppose you're bother'd hourly, 
 
 By poor suffering 1 millionaires, 
 Who must do some honest labor 
 
 Climbing 1 up the golden stairs ? " 
 " No, I never have a caller, 
 
 For old Charon with his tricks, 
 Locks them up in summer villas, 
 Right across the river Styx." 
 
 " Are there any politicians 
 
 Scattered here among the stars ? " 
 " Nary one ! " said honest Peter, 
 
 " We could never stand their jars." 
 " I suppose you're full of preachers, 
 
 Who have taught us how to pray ? " 
 " You're mistaken," he responded, 
 " There are thousands drove away." 
 
 " There's a spring of living waters, 
 
 At whose Christianizing fount 
 Flows a gospel universal, 
 
 Named : ' The Sermon on the Mount.' 
 
 14
 
 210 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Those not preaching 1 it find regions 
 Where there's not a flake of snow ; 
 
 And I pledg-e my saintly honor, 
 There the hypocrites must go." 
 
 When the smoking- made him drowsy 
 
 I commit a fatal sin ; 
 Heaven's keys I pilfered from him, 
 
 Till I'd let poor spirits in. 
 At my slig-htest touch the wickets 
 
 Widely opened in the sky. 
 Holy Moses ! what a racket ! 
 
 As the ladies passed me by. 
 
 Soon ten thousand peals of thunder 
 
 O'er the heavens fiercely roared ! 
 And St. Peter ran terrific, 
 
 Armed with a flaming- sword ; 
 He drove back the fair invaders, 
 
 And I crouched in mortal fear, 
 As the weapon gleamed above me, 
 
 While he shouted in my ear : 
 
 " Oh, you unrepentent rascal ! 
 
 Since the earth was launched in space, 
 'Tis the first time woman's prattle 
 E'er assailed this sacred place? "
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 211 
 
 Then the flaming- sword descended ; 
 
 As I jumped to dodge the stroke, 
 In a lethargy bewildered, 
 
 From the vision I awoke. 
 
 CHURCH 'MUSINGS. 
 
 Thank God, the forty days of Lent, 
 That He to punish us has sent, 
 
 Are quickly rolling on, 
 And ere these lines are told to drink 
 Their modest draught of printer's ink, 
 
 Once more shall Lent be gone. 
 
 For many weeks, with hungry moans, 
 I've masticated myriad bones 
 
 Of every kind of fish ; 
 
 I've cut, and slashed, and hacked and chewed 
 Through all the schools of scaly food 
 
 That penitent could wish. 
 
 The bones are piercing through my skin, 
 Alas ! I feel a dorsal fin 
 
 Protruding 'neath my vest ! 
 Their gills, and scales, and slimy eyes, 
 Like ghosts around my bed arise, 
 
 To break my needed rest.
 
 212 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 My throttle arm's growing weak, 
 The lever I can scarcely take 
 
 A hold of like a man. 
 The track is rough, I roll around, 
 Until I swear at every bound, 
 
 As lusty as I can. 
 
 A solid dish of pork and beans, 
 Or bacon, fried in juicy greens, 
 
 Would make my eye-balls roll ; 
 I think 'twould drive away more sin, 
 Than all I prayed since Lent came in ; 
 
 I do, upon my soul ! 
 
 Oh ! for a steak cut from a hog-, 
 Or off a cow, or yonder dog-, 
 
 Ah, yes, or from a cat, 
 A horse, a mule, a goat, an ass 
 I swear, this moment by the mass 
 
 I'd masticate a rat ! 
 
 The church forbids, and I must starve, 
 A piece of meat I dare not carve, 
 
 Or I incur her bans ; 
 Gaunt hunger has a deadly gripe 
 Unless on suction, like a snipe, 
 
 I feed, and foil her plans,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 213 
 
 The Bible says to fast and pray, 
 
 'Twas thus my pastor preached one day. 
 
 My pastor tells no fibs. 
 Poor man ! he looks as though he takes 
 His penance out in sirloin steaks, 
 
 While I pick codfish ribs. 
 
 I know the good man loves me well, 
 Far better than my pen can tell, 
 
 For he has told me so. 
 He said to fast ; if not, my crimes, 
 Together with my railing rhymes, 
 
 Would land me down below. 
 
 Since then at church I'm always found, 
 I veiy seldom glance around, 
 
 Except some saint comes in, 
 Whose features wear a dainty smile, 
 Parading up the middle aisle, 
 
 To purge herself from sin. 
 
 Those saints I find wear seal-skin sacques, 
 With ermine trimm'd well down their backs, 
 
 And hats of gorgeous plumes ; 
 I likewise note they're always late, 
 And strut along with peacock gait 
 
 To pews where fashion blooms.
 
 214 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I wonder if they feed on fish, 
 Or on a more ethereal dish 
 
 Of sighs and saintly groans ? 
 Perhaps to buy their gaudy silk 
 They starve themselves on mush and milk 
 
 Or caudled codfish bones. 
 
 My creed requires much penitence, 
 For every simple, slight offense 
 
 Committed in the flesh ; 
 Dear knows, the man who pulls a train 
 In heat and cold, in shine and rain, 
 
 May scorn the church's lash. 
 
 I like a sermon short and sweet, 
 But not a theologic treat, 
 
 Beyond my simple reach ; 
 I also love the fervent zeal 
 An honest man is sure to feel 
 
 Who'll practice what he'll preach. 
 
 I like to sit and criticise 
 
 The man who'll preach translators' lies, 
 
 With sactimonious ire ; 
 Who tells us that beyond the grave 
 Our sinful souls must always lave 
 
 In seas of liquid fire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 215 
 
 When Gabriel's trump shall wake the dead, 
 I know that those who toiled for bread 
 
 Need have no cause to fear ; 
 I truly think our Lord on high 
 Will give us rest beyond the sky 
 
 For what we suffered here. 
 
 THE HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 The seaman's song- is blithe and free, 
 He leaves the "Goodwins" on his lee. 
 His ship is trim, her sails expand 
 With gentle breezes from the land. 
 All hands on deck the yards do square, 
 To waft her through the waves and air. 
 Now, all is clear, the harbor passed, 
 And bending o'er each lofty mast ; 
 The studding-sails are quickly spread, 
 And in the chains one heaves the lead, 
 
 The channel's depths to sound ; 
 The pilot hears his answers shrill, 
 Which forth he sends with right good will. 
 The chorus of his shipmates tell 
 That all on board are going well, 
 
 And they are homeward bound.
 
 216 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 For two long" years on ocean wide 
 They've battled with the winds and tide. 
 They've sailed along- its liquid blue, 
 From frozen Greenland to Peru. 
 Been buffeted in Arctic seas, 
 And bronzed by many a tropic breeze. 
 Exposed to gales and hot simoons, 
 And wafted onward by monsoons. 
 In Bay of Biscay lost a spar, 
 Besides their most courageous tar. 
 Fought pirates on the Spanish Main, 
 Till all were captured, drowned, or slain. 
 The stars and stripes at mast-head high 
 Oft floated 'neath a foreign sky ; 
 And weary pilgrims paused to see 
 Their country's flag- still flying- free ; 
 Her ships well manned, both staunch and tr ue, 
 And fit to cleave the waters blue. 
 From out a distant port her bow 
 Is pointed to the west- ward now, 
 And songs aloft resound. 
 
 The pilot takes his leave when she 
 Is many leagues upon the sea. 
 Her course is set, the watch remains 
 On deck to view the steady strains 
 Upon each yard, each boom, each rope.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 211 
 
 Their hearts exult with joyous hope, 
 For they are homeward bound. 
 
 A little while and they'll behold 
 Their native land its shores unfold, 
 To bless the sight of those who viewed 
 Old ocean's face in solitude ; 
 Or seen the mighty billows rise 
 In madd'ning leap at angry skies ; 
 Like liquid Alps, their crests of spray 
 Picked up and swirl'd in flakes away. 
 A little while and kindred dear 
 Will greet them with a love sincere. 
 The Yankee girls will take in tow 
 Their noble ship with glad heave, ho ! 
 The steersman as he leaves the wheel, 
 Responds in words his messmates feel, 
 
 When his relief comes round : 
 "Her course is west, Jack, keep her full, 
 Make every stitch of canvas pull. 
 Ball off the knots with willing- hand, 
 Until the look-out spies the land, 
 
 For we are homeward bound." 
 
 And now the water's em'rald sheen 
 
 Is changing to a darker green. 
 
 The land birds perch upon the stays ;
 
 218 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And drift-wood floats from out the bays. 
 The coasters cross their wake and tell 
 That all on hoard are doing- well. 
 The decks are holy-stoned with care ; 
 And men are swung- in upper air, 
 To make all ready for the coast, 
 Where seamen fear the danger most. 
 Suspense upon their features creep, 
 And very few on board can sleep 
 For know you, landsmen, nearing- home, 
 When over leagues of sea you roam, 
 There is a fear which steals within 
 The lightest heart, that loves its kin 
 That some dear form you may not spy, 
 From whom you went with tear-dimm'd eye ; 
 Some hearth may have a vacant chair, 
 Since off you sailed from loved ones there ; 
 
 Perhaps beneath a mound, 
 Your father or your mother true 
 May sleep, whose parting breath, for you 
 Was sent to God to guard you well, 
 With love far more than tongue can tell, 
 
 And wished you homeward bound. 
 
 But see ! The ensign's at the peak, 
 A passing ship they're going to speak. 
 Ha ! ha ! Their longitude is right,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 219 
 
 And soon they'll have the beach in sight. 
 The frenzied glances of the crew 
 Can't penetrate the hazy hue 
 Which settles on the ocean's breast, 
 Until the sun glides down the west, 
 And sends bright beams athwart the sky 
 Through vapors dense that on it lie. 
 Eight bells are tolled. The watch is called. 
 The ground-gear now is overhauled ; 
 The anchors catted on the rail, 
 But, hark ! what means that joyous hail ? 
 "Land ho ! " the look-out wildly cries, 
 "Land ho ! " the second mate replies. 
 The captain with his glass now goes 
 Aloft to see its shape disclose, 
 He sings his orders quick and clear, 
 And tells the wheelsman how to steer, 
 For Sand3 ;r Hook is drawing near, 
 And soon they'll be with kindred dear, 
 
 On well remember 'd ground. 
 They drive away all frenzied fear, 
 Care from their bosoms disappear ; 
 They dash him on his ghostly bier, 
 Without a pang, without a tear ; 
 Suspense gives way to joy sincere, 
 
 For they are homeward bound.
 
 220 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Familiar objects on the shore 
 Are pointed out, by those once more, 
 Who viewed them weary months before, 
 When seaward their staunch frigate bore ; 
 Whose keel plowed nobly on her course, 
 And triumphed o'er the billow's force ; 
 Until she now rides safe and sound, 
 With anchors down in holding- ground . 
 At last the voyage is complete, 
 And terra firma 'neath their feet. 
 The salutation : "All is well," 
 The fears of those on board dispel. 
 
 Each loving- friend is found. 
 In fond embrace they're warmly clasped, 
 And many hands are stoutly grasped, 
 
 To greet the homeward bound. 
 
 TO CALDWELL B. BENSON, ON HIS TRAVELS. 
 
 You're now upon a foreign shore, 
 In lands beyond Atlantic's roar, 
 
 'Mid objects European. 
 Perhaps, as here I sit and sing, 
 You're hob-a-nobbing with a king, 
 
 Or waltzing with his queen.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Where'er you are I'll safely bet, 
 Columbia's shore you'll ne'er forget 
 
 The land which gave you birth. 
 You'll find she stands the first of all 
 The nations, whether great or small, 
 
 To-day upon the earth. 
 
 You are a man whose liberal mind 
 Is honest, broad, and not confined 
 
 Within contracted bounds ; 
 You'll note, when moving on your tour, 
 The gulf dividing rich and poor, 
 
 On Europe's slavish grounds. 
 
 You'll find those titled things they call 
 Lords, dukes and earls, creatures all 
 
 Of very common clay ; 
 Who think they have a perfect right 
 To trample o'er, by force of might, 
 
 God's poor who block their way. 
 
 Perhaps upon yourself they'll sneer, 
 Or on your native land, so dear 
 
 To every honest heart ; 
 If so, they'll find your free-born soul 
 Will fly beyond your calm control, 
 
 Bevengeful, ere you part.
 
 222 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Where'er in courts of wealth or fame 
 You'll chance to meet a titled dame, 
 
 Compare her with your wife ; 
 More graceful lines you'll plainly trace 
 Upon her noble, handsome face, 
 
 Than elsewhere during- life. 
 
 Her features are the truest chart 
 That ever yet indexed a heart, 
 
 Where Virtue's treasures reign ; 
 Her social smile, her stately mien, 
 Will envied be by many a queen, 
 
 O'er Europe's broad domain. 
 
 I haven't either time or space 
 Within this book, or I would trace 
 
 Some sights along your route ; 
 Of cities numbered with the dead ; 
 Of fields where ghostly warriors tread, 
 
 Which I have read about. 
 
 Tread lightly on green Erin's sod, 
 'Tis nurtured with the martyr's blood, 
 
 Through centuries of wrong ; 
 On every hill, on every plain, 
 On rivers rolling to the main, 
 
 Her life's tide flows along.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 223 
 
 Her sons aspire to make her free, 
 They will not bend a slavish knee, 
 
 In this enlightened age. 
 They've struggled long with little hope ; 
 The headman's axe, the hangman's rope, 
 
 Disgrace her history's page. 
 
 On England's old, historic soil, 
 You'll find reward for all your toil, 
 
 Amid her wealth and fame. 
 You'll see the splendor, pomp and glare, 
 Of all that mighty nation there, 
 
 Around her laureled name. 
 
 When Scotland's skies are o'er your head, 
 Oh, think upon the mighty dead 
 
 Who sleep within her womb ! 
 Move gently o'er the sacred ground 
 Where pilgrims walk in reverence round 
 
 Famed Bobbie Burns' tomb. 
 
 Your piercing, keen, observing glance, 
 Shall note luxurious sights in France, 
 
 And flash with joy in Spain. 
 Italian sights are truly grand, 
 Where art and nature, hand in hand, 
 
 Parade in gorgeous train.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 In German States find out the cause 
 Why they enact such stringent laws 
 
 Against our Yankee pork ; 
 Our juicy haras, well fried in eggs, 
 Would cure old Bismarck's gouty legs, 
 
 If cooked a la New York. 
 
 In Russia keep a sharp look out 
 For victims of a tyrant's knout ; 
 
 If not you'll feel a jar. 
 Such princely looking men as you, 
 Beneath her flag are very few ; 
 
 They'll take you for the Czar. 
 
 Too long I've spun this tedious rhyme, 
 Or I would rove through every clime 
 
 'Neath Europe's azure dome 
 With you, who know if ladies' smiles 
 Possess one-half the witching wiles 
 
 Of melting maids at home. 
 
 I love you, " Cad," your heart is warm ; 
 E'en foes admire your manly form 
 
 And independent mind ; 
 Oh, how I love the sterling ring 
 Your voice contains, as forth you spring, 
 
 On cliques of every kind !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 225 
 
 Your wealth is not the miser's hoard, 
 You never keep your riches stored, 
 
 Secure with locks and keys ; 
 You'll fling- it from your open hand, 
 Amongst the poor in every land 
 
 Beyond our Yankee seas. 
 
 We sadly miss your genial face 
 From every dear, accustomed place 
 
 It used to be of yore ; 
 And may the months speed quickly by, 
 Until your welcome form we'll spy 
 
 Upon our trains once more. 
 
 When westward bound, with favoring- gales, 
 Some swift Cunarder spreads her sails 
 
 To bring your party back ; 
 I hope she'll cleave her liquid way, 
 Triumphant o'er old ocean's spray, 
 
 Upon the starboard tack. 
 
 And when the gang-plank's shoved ashore, 
 To land you 'rnongst your friends once more 
 
 Upon Manhattan's strand ; 
 I hope you'll find the brightest gem 
 Of all the nation's diadem 
 
 Your own dear native land. 
 
 15
 
 226 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 ADMIRATION. 
 
 " What is there to admire in me ?" 
 A Juno said in tones serenely, 
 
 " Come tell me everything- you see. " 
 She uttered with a precept queenly. 
 
 " I see the counterpart of one 
 
 I think as bright as mid -day sun ; 
 
 Whose cheeks are blooming- as the rose, 
 
 Which in some tropic garden grows ; 
 
 Whose eyes are brighter than the stars 
 
 Called Venus, Mercury, or Mars ; 
 
 Whose breath is sweet as morning dew, 
 
 Or spicy zephyrs of Peru ; 
 
 Whose hands are slender, small, and soft, 
 
 Who smiles like angels up aloft ; 
 
 Who glides as graceful as the swan, 
 
 Her every attitude and motion 
 In you combine, then handsome one, 
 
 That's why I tender my devotion. 
 
 If I were only fancy free, 
 
 And met you on life's early morning, 
 My loving heart would sing in glee, 
 
 And win you 'spite of all your scorning ; 
 I'd tune my harp to simple lays, 
 Both night and day I'd sing your praise,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 227 
 
 I'd not be conquered by despair, 
 Faint heart ne'er won a lady fair. 
 I'd never hesitate or falter, 
 Until I had you at the altar ; 
 And then adown the tide of life, 
 
 Its hand in hand we'd go together, 
 When sailing 1 off the rocks of strife, 
 
 We'd float as buoyant as a feather. 
 
 My worthy friend, why do you ask? 
 
 Why put me to this pleasant task ? 
 Yet, if I had time and leisure, 
 I'd answer more with greatest pleasure ; 
 I'd tell you every reason why 
 You're fairest 'neath this August sky. 
 Your mirror will reflect to you 
 
 When next before its face you stand 
 A queenly shape, to Nature true 
 
 As any from her skillful hand. 
 
 RETROSPECTION. 
 
 How I love to sit and ponder 
 On the happy days of yore, 
 
 When the wine of life raced freely 
 From an unexhausted store ;
 
 228 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 When we battered Care's old castle 
 
 With a hearty fusilade 
 Of sweet song's and merry laughter, 
 
 'Till a breach was in it made. 
 
 How the mind must be surrounded 
 
 With a guilty coat of mail, 
 That will not look back with pleasure 
 
 To some youthful sunlit vale ; 
 Where was raised the joyous chorus 
 
 Of bare-footed boys at play, 
 As we danced amid the heather 
 
 On a sunny summer's day. 
 
 Through the misty clouds of vision 
 
 Hovering o'er maturer years, 
 I can see the winding river, 
 
 Till my eyes o'erflow with tears ; 
 I can view those happy frolics, 
 
 And the mountain clad in green, 
 And the sweep of blooming heather 
 
 Where the lambkins played between. 
 
 O'er the river's crystal waters 
 Like a sea-fowl we could swim ; 
 
 We disdained the timid cowards 
 Who sat shiv'ring on its brim ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 229 
 
 O'er the mountain lay the world 
 
 The horizon of our hopes 
 And we burned with rash impatience 
 
 Till we'd pass its grassy slopes. 
 
 We have passed them, drifting 1 onward, 
 
 Drifting downward with the years ! 
 Drifting o'er life's troubled ocean, 
 
 With our freight of hopes and fears ! 
 Sometimes tossed on mountain billows, 
 
 Sometimes on calm waters bore, 
 Yet, we're drifting ever onward 
 
 To the undiscovered shore ! 
 
 There are islands in the ocean, 
 
 Where we sometimes step on land, 
 To enjoy a few brief moments, 
 
 With a transient, stranger band. 
 But, alas ! the hours of pleasure 
 
 Which we spare to sport as men, 
 Make our bark but sail the faster 
 
 When we step on board again. 
 
 All the hopes of youth have vanished, 
 
 All its innocence has fled ; 
 In the struggle for existence, 
 
 We have selfishness instead.
 
 230 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 In the tussle and the jostle 
 
 To secure some petty prize, 
 We tramp down our weaker playmates 
 
 Every morning- we arise. 
 
 All the treasure of this world 
 
 And I write the honest truth 
 I would give, were I the owner, 
 
 To renew my vanished youth ; 
 To recall those dear companions, 
 
 Who have wandered to and fro, 
 From the play-ground, near the mountain, 
 
 Since the halcyon long 1 ago ! 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE CLANS. 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO THE MAYOR AND MEMBERS OF THE 
 COMMON COUNCIL. 
 
 At sunrise every morning here, 
 From March 'till cold and bleak December, 
 
 A sound familiar strikes the ear, 
 Once heard you'll ever more remember. 
 
 It comes from flocks of pigs and geese, 
 That have this corporation's freedom, 
 
 To roam at large where e'er they please, 
 Or where their chief marauders lead 'em.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 231 
 
 On choicest spots of tender green, 
 Where care bestowed her longest hours, 
 
 Those daring 1 outlaws may be seen, 
 When gorging* on rare plants and flowers. 
 
 And when their appetites are staid, 
 The day's diversion soon will follow ; 
 
 In battle-lines quite soon arrayed, 
 Extending over hill and hollow. 
 
 The pigs act umpires of the fight, 
 Or guard their rear from dogs and cattle 
 
 That interfere, by powerful might, 
 To end a long and tedious battle. 
 
 This morning perched upon a tree 
 I took a careful observation, 
 
 For you, Messieurs, who guard this free, 
 Indulgent, patient, corporation. 
 
 Each flock is known by stride and squeal ; 
 Here comes a clan called ''Gosling Alleys." 
 
 The fight begins, around they wheel 
 To meet voracious Platner valleys. 
 
 With fierce attack they charge the foe, 
 On flying feet and wings extended ; 
 
 At double-quick they onward go, 
 'Till all are in one dust-cloud blended !
 
 232 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Now comes a lean and lanky clan 
 To re-inforce the Gosling- Alleys ; 
 
 It looks as if a goose-Sedan 
 Awaited all the Platner valleys. 
 
 They enfilade from Duck Egg lane ; 
 A brood of pigs behind them follow. 
 
 Their ganders play a martial strain, 
 And lead the way to Corky-Hollow. 
 
 Again the contest is renewed. 
 With beaks and wings, both fast and furious, 
 
 The Gosling Alleys, unsubdued, 
 Extend their lines with tactics curious. 
 
 But hark ! What means that lusty shout ? 
 Up Hoody-Town a band discourses ; 
 
 It is the Green Road legion out, 
 To join the Platner valley forces ! 
 
 They wheel in line and open fire ; 
 The Hacker-Roads prepare to meet 'em ; 
 
 The Hoody-Hills, with keen desire, 
 And clad in Duck-Creek armor, greet 'em ; 
 
 The Green Road geese on flanks and rear, 
 Attack the half-starved Gosling Alleys 
 
 The field is won ! that lusty cheer 
 Comes from victorious Platner valleys !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 233 
 
 'Tis thus they fight from day to day ; 
 When shades of night around them gather, 
 
 On streets and walks they'll march away, 
 Without the loss of beak or feather. 
 
 They'll forage on the choicest green 
 We have in garden or on horder ; 
 
 A foul and filthy brood, unclean, 
 Whose owners laugh at law and order. 
 
 UNION MEETING AT ROCHESTER, N. Y. 
 
 By the clear and placid waters 
 
 Of Ontario at rest, 
 Where the snowy wings of commerce 
 
 Gently glide upon its breast, 
 I am sitting, meditating, 
 
 Looking skyward to the moon, 
 With the memories around me 
 
 Of the fifth and sixth of June. 
 
 Oh, ye gods ! who favor mortals 
 
 In each laudable desire, 
 Aid my efforts, I implore you, 
 
 Send one flash of Nature's fire
 
 234 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To illuminate the chambers 
 
 Of my dull, insipid brain, 
 Till I sing- to distant Brothers, 
 
 In an easy, truthful strain. 
 
 It was June, and 'mid its roses, 
 
 We enjoyed two days in mirth, 
 Our surrounding's bloomed and blossomed ; 
 
 'Twas a paradise on earth. 
 Nature donned her grandest raiment ; 
 
 In resplendent robes of green ] 
 She received our brawny heroes, 
 
 And entranced them with the scene. 
 
 Syracuse clasped hands with Brothers 
 
 Up at Rochester, and space 
 Never yet contained a party 
 
 Who displayed such royal grace ; 
 'Twas a regal entertainment, 
 
 Gotten up with greatest care, 
 So 'twould leave a life's impression 
 
 On the guests assembled there. 
 
 And the frosts of many seasons 
 Were dispelled amid the glow 
 
 Of fraternal smiles of welcome, 
 From the friends of long a'go ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 235 
 
 There were hand-clasps and heart-greeting's, 
 
 Such as only men display, 
 Who exchange the post of duty 
 
 For the pleasures of a day. 
 
 Poets sing- of orange bowers, 
 
 And of tropic songsters, too, 
 And of spicy zephyrs blowing 
 
 In the valleys of Peru ; 
 But they never saw the glories 
 
 Of our northern summer clime, 
 When the Brotherhood assembles 
 
 For a pleasurable time. 
 
 Heaven carpeted our ball-room 
 
 With a spread of velvet green, 
 And the beaming smiles of beauty 
 
 Gave enchantment to the scene. 
 There we went through mazy dances 
 
 Till the glorious god of day 
 Rose with golden smiles to greet us, 
 
 Ere we thought of going away. 
 
 And our banquet hall outrivaled 
 
 Fable scenes in fairy land, 
 Where enchantment loads the tables 
 
 By a magical command.
 
 236 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 It surpassed all former efforts 
 Of the Brotherhood at large ; 
 
 I appeal to Grand Chief Arthur, 
 To sustain me in the charge. 
 
 'Tis a green spot in the desert 
 
 Of our ever active lives 
 When we meet for recreation 
 
 With our children and our wives ; 
 When we lay aside the troubles 
 
 Which beset our paths as men, 
 And 'mid innocent amusements, 
 
 We can feel as boys again. 
 
 SIT YOU DOWN AT MY SIDE. 
 
 Sit you down at my side 
 
 Till I whisper awhile ; 
 Let your heart open wide, 
 
 On your face put a smile ; 
 For I see you are sad, 
 
 There's a cloud on your brow, 
 And your features are clad 
 
 In dejection just now.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 All the moments you spend 
 
 In gloom, nursing- your pain, 
 Hurries onward your end, 
 
 They press down on the brain ; 
 All the smiles you put on, 
 
 Drive the wrinkles away- 
 Let me see you wear one, 
 
 Change the night into day. 
 
 Sure this life, love, is brief, 
 
 And your charms soon will fade ; 
 Do not linger in grief, 
 
 Like a surly old maid ; 
 But attend to the words 
 
 Which I'll quickly impart, 
 Like the warbling- of birds, 
 
 Let them steal to your heart. 
 
 There's a time to be sad, 
 
 'Tis when I am not near, 
 There's a time to be glad, 
 
 When I'm with you, my dear; 
 There's a time when you'll sigh, 
 
 'Tis when wishing for me ; 
 When I come let each eye 
 
 Speak in welcoming glee.
 
 238 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Ah ! my love, now your face 
 
 Is with pleasure aglow ; 
 On your brow I can trace 
 
 Where the love blossoms blow ; 
 And your lips wear a tint 
 
 Of carnation so bright, 
 Where my kisses I'll print 
 
 In profusion to-night. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 JAMES A. MCCARTHY, KILLED ON HIS ENGINE AT CARL YON, 
 JULY 2TTH, 1883. 
 
 'Mid the terrible booming 1 of thunder, 
 
 Sharp lightning 1 and deluge of rain, 
 Came the tidings of death and disaster 
 
 To Carlyon's ill-fated train ; 
 Where the wind's sudden rise in its fury, 
 
 Soon blew in a merciless gale, 
 And sent flying- along from the siding 
 
 A car to spread death on the rail. 
 
 'T\vas a night when the bravest might falter 
 With heartstricken fear and despair, 
 
 For it seemed as if legions of demons, 
 Were out and at war in the air ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 239 
 
 But the tide of humanity flowing-, 
 O'ercame every feeling of fright, 
 
 In the rescuing- party who labored 
 So bravely that terrible night. 
 
 'Twas a sight that shall ne'er be forgotten, 
 
 While reason presides in the brain, 
 To behold all the dead and the dying, 
 
 Who rode on that ill-fated train ; 
 Heaven pity them all ! Here's one other, 
 
 Whose equals on earth were but few ; 
 He's my noble professional brother, 
 
 Who proved what a brave man can do. 
 
 All the newspapers called him a hero, 
 
 Who bravely met death at his post ; 
 Ah, yes ! he remained on his engine, 
 
 To liter'ly broil and to roast. 
 Not a selfish thought entered his bosom, 
 
 He stood on the foot-board resigned, 
 With the lever reversed in the quadrant, 
 
 To save the three hundred behind. 
 
 * 
 His poor fireman was pulled out dismembered 
 
 From under the wreck where it lay, 
 And he, too, played the part of a hero ; 
 
 In fragments they bore him away.
 
 240 . SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 They were there like true comrades together, 
 Their lifetides besprinkled the sod, 
 
 And within a few hours of each other, 
 Both spirits ascended to God. 
 
 Hurry, Fame, with your brightest of laurels, 
 
 To deck poor McCarthy's last bed ; 
 He is gone beyond earthly assistance, 
 
 And lies with the heroic dead ; 
 He is one of the army of victims 
 
 Whom duty requires every year 
 To be foremost where danger lies thickest, 
 
 And die like a brave engineer. 
 
 Hear the multitudes wail as we bear him 
 
 All covered with flowers to the grave ; 
 Note the grief of his kindred who'd tear him 
 
 Away from the ranks of the brave ; 
 See his five little, fatherless children, 
 
 Who huddle up close at the bier ; 
 Hear the sobs of his heart-broken widow, 
 
 Who weeps for the dead engineer. 
 
 He is now laid at rest, and forever, 
 He sleeps his last sleep 'neath the sod ; 
 
 All the wails of his loved ones shall never 
 Recall his free spirit from God.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 241 
 
 When on duty he never did falter 
 Although he loved children and wife 
 
 But laid down his all on its altar, 
 And, mind you, that all was his life. 
 
 Oh ! I know glorious deeds are recorded 
 
 Above with a merciful pen ; 
 And I know that all those are rewarded 
 
 Who act as the savers of men. 
 When the archangel's trumpet gives warning, 
 
 To call up the heroic dead 
 For review on eternity's morning, 
 
 Brave " Jimmie " will march at the head. 
 
 POUR OUT A GOODLY CUP OF CHEER. 
 
 Pour out a goodly cup of cheer, 
 
 And. quaff its contents down ; 
 Now out upon the sea we'll steer, 
 
 Although the skies may frown. 
 My bark is staunch, her hull and sails 
 
 Were built for stormy tides ; 
 Perhaps she'll meet destructive gales, 
 
 Ere back to port she rides. 
 
 16
 
 242 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! the land is fading- fast, 
 
 The cloud-rack sweeps the sky ; 
 The harbor lights are quickly past, 
 
 The seas run mountains high. 
 My crew are of that mettle made, 
 
 Who stand with bated breath ; 
 All gallant tars, and not afraid 
 
 To face the monster death. 
 
 The thunder peal vibrates o'erhead, 
 
 The lightning flashes free ; 
 No soundings with the deep-sea-lead 
 
 On weather or on lee. 
 The piping- winds, like giants hoarse, 
 
 Amid the cordage roar ! 
 But still we steer our seaward course, 
 
 Full many leagues from shore. 
 
 This driving pace begins to tell. 
 
 The goodly timbers creak, 
 Across the decks roll ev'ry swell, 
 
 And soon she'll spring a leak, 
 Unless the larboard watch is called 
 
 On deck to shorten sail ; 
 Brave hearts ! they're up and unappalled, 
 
 To fight the roaring gale !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 243 
 
 The royals now are safely stowed, 
 
 And our to'gallants too ; 
 But, see ! from off the yard is blowed 
 
 The bravest of my crew ; 
 No human aid can save his life, 
 
 He sinks beneath the wave, 
 Where, undisturbed by mortal strife, 
 
 He'll fill a sailor's grave. 
 
 i)::)::):***:):* 
 
 The clouds beg-in to drift away, 
 
 And on our weather-beam, 
 The sun sends down a cheering ray, 
 
 Which on the waters gleam ; 
 It tells us that all dangers o'er ; 
 
 And calmly we may glide 
 Across the placid seas once more, 
 
 Upon old ocean wide. 
 
 EVENING CHIMES. 
 
 When the smoke wreaths ascend in a cloud 
 
 round my nose, 
 
 Is the time I enjoy a delicious repose ; 
 And I bask in the smiles which my fancy creates, 
 On this cool, balmy eve, when the wide open gates
 
 244 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Of my fancy are flung-, to permit me to stray 
 Where I choose, till the wreaths have all faded 
 
 away ; 
 And thy whiffs, like the puffs of a clean-cut 
 
 exhaust, 
 Circle 'round in the air till in distance they're lost. 
 
 I've been reading 1 the Journal and found as I read 
 Intellectual treats from contributors spread 
 O'er its pages, where Mind is the monarch that 
 
 reigns 
 
 In its columns, endowed with his quota of brains. 
 When we're roasting with heat or when freezing 
 
 with cold, 
 
 It brings joy to our hearts every line we behold, 
 From those kind and affectionate ladies, whose 
 
 lives 
 Are united with ours, and signed " engineer's 
 
 wives." 
 
 When we leave them and bid them a tender good 
 bye, 
 
 How the tears trickle down from each "plug- 
 puller's" eye, 
 
 As we give them a sad and disconsolate kiss, 
 
 Knowing well how the poor darling creatures 
 we'll miss 
 
 When we're off at the other far end of our route,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 245 
 
 Where we never were known to go strolling 
 about, 
 
 But remain in our cabs making pious complaints 
 To our Maker and reading- the Lives of the Saints. 
 
 Should we ever come back with a red hair or two 
 On the sleeves of our coats and exposed to the 
 
 view 
 Of our wives, who have long- raven tresses, why, 
 
 then, 
 
 Heaven pity us all, we're unfortunate men ! 
 Don't they know in their hearts how the smoke 
 
 and the gas 
 Of our engines can color the paint-work and 
 
 brass ? 
 And, of course, 'tis the very same process which 
 
 led 
 To the change in their own hair they fancied was 
 
 red. 
 
 I have never yet heard of the slightest reliance 
 A woman would place on the wonders of science. 
 She can talk with a truly intelligent mind 
 O'er a wide range of topics, with learning refined, 
 But when once her keen eyes get the sight of a 
 hair, 
 
 Which she thinks, in her foolishness, shouldn't be 
 
 there ; 
 Oh ! it don't matter much if the color be gray,
 
 246 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 All her learning- takes wings and the devil's to 
 pay. 
 
 There are many who think that this calling- of 
 
 ours 
 Is a path where we stroll through the rarest of 
 
 flowers, 
 
 Where the lilies and roses and pansies reg-ale 
 All the boys who g-o flying- along- o'er the rail. 
 They'd be sadly mistaken if once at my side 
 I could get them to stand for a fifty-mile ride ; 
 How they'd tumble about like a colicky pig-, 
 Or a bull in a china shop dancing- a jig-. 
 
 If our engines work smooth and we're running on 
 
 time, 
 
 We can nerve-strain relax and in harmony chime 
 With the noble old steed that is flying along, 
 As her nozzles play bass, while we warble a song; 
 But the slightest derangement which grates on 
 
 our ears 
 
 Ends abruptly the songs of the best engineers. 
 For myself, at such times, I'd prefer in the Fall, 
 To be driving old mules on the " raging canawl." 
 
 Brother Everett, your hand ! How the years 
 
 have sped o'er 
 
 Since we clasped them together in greeting before! 
 You have given unmerited praise to my name,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 247 
 
 Such as only yourself could with modesty claim. 
 In your "Land that Lies Starward" your Muse 
 
 on her wing- 
 Told us all how she quaffed of the Helicon spring-. 
 May she ever be found soaring- grandly along-, 
 To enohle mankind with her Heaven-sent song-. 
 
 Now my pipe is extinguished, the daylight is gone, 
 And the brakes of my fancy are set, every one : 
 There remain but a very few hours till I'll hear 
 The rich brogue of the caller saluting- my ear. 
 He's the boy who can knock every fanciful flight 
 Of my noddle up higher than Gilderoy's kite, 
 As he grunts and he growls like the half-famished 
 
 roar 
 Of a wolf, in the gray of the dawn, at my door. 
 
 MINERS' WAGES ADVANCED. 
 
 To HON. SAMUEL SLOAN, PRESIDENT DELAWARE, LACKA WANNA AND 
 WESTERN RAILROAD. 
 
 Your Honor : 'Tis presumption's self 
 That urged me from my humble sphere, 
 
 To take my old harp from the shelf, 
 And sing this strain to catch your ear.
 
 248 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 When I perused the joyful news 
 
 That thrilled through ev'ry miner's breast, 
 I said : " Sam Sloan will ne'er refuse 
 
 My humble thanks among- the rest." 
 
 Thank God the panic days are past ! 
 
 The ten-per-cent. cut-downs are o'er, 
 And better times are here at last, 
 
 To bless our patient hearts once more. 
 Indeed it was a welcome sight, 
 
 To read the preface of my song, 
 It told that dark misfortune's night, 
 
 Now brings a brighter dawn along. 
 
 I know you have an honest heart, 
 
 And all your boys here know the same ; 
 We know you take a poor man's part, 
 
 And think it neither crime nor shame. 
 We meekly bowed to each decree, 
 
 And gave it our obedient will, 
 That came in panic troubles free, 
 
 Performing all our duties still. 
 
 We watched you stem the darkling tide, 
 With anxious eyes we scann'd the stocks, 
 
 And cheered you as we saw you guide 
 
 Your roads secure through Wall Street rocks,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 249 
 
 Without the loss of spar or sail, 
 
 The skillful pilot that you are, 
 To weather each financial gale, 
 
 Till Morris and Essex stood at par. 
 
 No sooner is the conflict o'er, 
 
 No sooner did good times begin, 
 Than to each hardy miner's door 
 
 You stole, surprising all within ; 
 Their honest sounds of heartfelt prayer, 
 
 Will be in heavenly mansions stored, 
 To greet your sure arrival there, 
 
 When called away to your reward. 
 
 And now my task is nearly done, 
 
 Back to oblivion's depths I'll fly, 
 And there concealed I'll try to shun 
 
 Your piercing, shrewd, official eye ; 
 Yet, ere I go, my Muse prevails 
 
 To have me say before we part : 
 " However fortune tips the scales, 
 
 You'll always have a human heart." 
 
 Indeed there is no use at all, 
 To please the rude, discordant jade, 
 
 Because that fact is known to all 
 Your employes of ev'ry grade ;
 
 250 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And with your hardy mining- band, 
 We'll yet be heard in loud acclaim, 
 
 O'er hill and dale throughout the land, 
 Invoking- blessings on your name. 
 
 TO "HANDY ANDY." 
 
 "Handy Andy," since Sam Lover 
 
 Gave the character to fame, 
 Whom we all admire in fiction, 
 
 And from whom you filched your name, 
 Every subsequent aspirant 
 
 Seems to blunder more and more 
 Than the noted Handy Andy 
 
 Did, in Lover's days of yore. 
 
 You have published me a liar, 
 
 And have held me up to view, 
 As a railer at St. Peter, 
 
 And my pious pastor, too. 
 But his Saintship knows I'm human, 
 
 And will overlook a joke ; 
 For like all light-hearted fellows, 
 
 He enjoys a social smoke.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 251 
 
 And to think I'd jibe my pastor ! 
 
 Oh, you sanctimonious rogue, 
 How you moralize just like him, 
 
 In a rich, melodious brogue ; 
 Pointing- out the path to Heaven 
 
 For poor penitents to climb ; 
 While yourself may sin and slander 
 
 In a sermonizing 1 rhyme. 
 
 If you sat with me on Sundays, 
 
 In a rear located pew, 
 With the pulpit and the preacher, 
 
 And the people in full view, 
 Noting those who come to worship, 
 
 Clad in fashion's rich array, 
 You would surely whisper, "Shandy, 
 
 Very few come here to pray." 
 
 Note that lady dressed in satin, 
 
 See how pleasing she can smile ; 
 How her gorgeous plumes are dancing, 
 
 As she sweeps adown the aisle. 
 Do you think her thoughts are upward 
 
 Where the meek of heart reside ? 
 If you do I'll differ with you, 
 
 For I know she's full of pride.
 
 252 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 See the fashionable broadcloth 
 Of that portly-looking- gent ; 
 
 Whom I never knew to labor 
 For an honest-earned cent. 
 
 Do you think the good St. Peter 
 Will throw Heaven's gates ajar 
 
 To admit him, after taking- 
 Poor men's dimes across his bar ? 
 
 See the cushions made of velvet, 
 
 Where they sit and take their ease, 
 While we poor, less favored mortals, 
 
 On rough boards must bend our knees. 
 Hear how eloquent the preacher 
 
 Thunders Scripture at the Jews ! 
 As he smiles upon the G entiles, 
 
 In the velvet-cushioned pews. 
 
 Oh, no, Andy ; I'm no railer, 
 
 And I don't deny my creed ; 
 But I criticise those preachers, 
 
 Who on choicest fare may feed ; 
 Who ignore the poor and lowly, 
 
 While the rich may favors count. 
 'T wasn't thus the Galilean 
 
 Promulgated from the Mount.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 253 
 
 Have you ever ran an engine 
 
 When the wintry winds did roar, 
 When the snow, in avalanches, 
 
 Piled against the furnace door ? 
 When the two old pumps were frozen, 
 
 And the works a mass of ice ? 
 If you have, don't fear the preachers, 
 
 For you're sure of Paradise. 
 
 Have you ever felt the burning 
 
 Of the sun, in hot July, 
 When the cab would suffocate you, 
 
 And you really thought you'd die ? 
 If you have, you need not worry 
 
 Much on what the preachers tell, 
 For, dear Andy, I assure you, 
 
 It exceeds the heat of hell. 
 
 Now, my bouchal, in conclusion, 
 
 Let me whisper in your ear : 
 "In the great unknown hereafter, 
 
 We'll be better off than here ; 
 While some Scriptural expounders, 
 
 Whom we very often meet, 
 Will require the polar regions 
 
 To allay their burning heat."
 
 254 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 YOU ARE ALL THAT MY FANCY CAN WISH FOR, 
 MY DEAR. 
 
 You are all that my fancy can wish for, my dear ; 
 
 You're a bright little goddess of beauty ; 
 But a trifle too proud in your notions, I fear, 
 
 And a slave to the strict line of duty. 
 If you'd banish those prudish opinions you hold, 
 
 And upon my devotion take pity, 
 Sure I'd prize you far more than full coffers of 
 gold, 
 
 And I'd "worship your charms, dear Kittie. 
 
 You are yet in your teens, so am I, my dear love, 
 
 Or perhaps I'm a year or two older ; 
 Let us sip of those sweets Heavensent from above, 
 
 Ere the years make our passions grow colder ; 
 We can nobly defy all the trials of life, 
 
 While our hearts are as buoyant as feather ; 
 For with youth, health, and hope, and yourself 
 for my wife, 
 
 We will share joy and sorrow together. 
 
 Let your lips meet with mine till our souls shall 
 unite, 
 
 Do not frown at my loving advances ; 
 But be human, and pledge your affection to-night, 
 
 Let my heart read its doom in your glances.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 250 
 
 Ah ! I see you respond to me, darling 1 , that smile 
 Is a silent, though certain consent, dear, . 
 
 For it comes from your heart that's untrammeled 
 
 by guile, 
 Oh ! I hope you shall never repent, dear. 
 
 EIGHTY-THREE, FAREWELL 
 
 Farewell, a long farewell, old friend ! 
 
 The time is drawing- near, 
 When all our intercourse shall end ; 
 
 I tell you, with a tear. 
 Old Time, that drives with rapid pace 
 
 O'er earthty hills and dales, 
 Shall quickly hide your wrinkled face 
 
 Beneath our snow-clad vales. 
 
 And yet, before you do depart 
 
 Into the great unknown, 
 To-night I'll ope to you my heart, 
 
 As here we sit alone ; 
 For you have been, in many ways, 
 
 A true and faithful friend, 
 Whom I'll revere, until my days 
 
 Ofjfteeting life shall end.
 
 256 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The very moment of your birth 
 
 I heralded with joy ; 
 And peans rang- o'er all the earth, 
 
 To greet the graceful boy. 
 You then were in your swaddling-clothes, 
 
 A youth of promise fair, 
 A messenger of love to those 
 
 Who suffered grief and care. 
 
 For plenty smiled all o'er the land, 
 
 The wheels of traffic ran 
 With steady speed, on every hand, 
 
 To bless the toiling man ; 
 The wolf of hung-er, 'mongst the poor, 
 
 Relaxed his deadly hold ; 
 The merchant felt his risk secure 
 
 Accumulating 1 gold. 
 
 My Brothers of the mystic ring-, 
 
 Whose countersign is B, 
 Shall mourn you as a much-loved king-, 
 
 Dear Eighteen Eighty-three. 
 Because throughout your reign we found 
 
 Good friends with voice and pen, 
 And, for the same, kind thanks resound 
 
 From fifteen thousand men.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 257 
 
 From Manitoba's fruitful soil 
 
 To tropical Brazil, 
 We found reward for honest toil, 
 
 And friends are with us still. 
 From far Pacific's golden sands, 
 
 Each man who leads a train, 
 Extends congratulating- hands 
 
 To Brothers o'er in Maine. 
 
 I fain would have the horoscope 
 
 Of your successor read, 
 But, ere his eyes on earth shall ope, 
 
 You'll join the legions dead. 
 We'll mourn you with a doleful tear, 
 
 To speed your parting soul, 
 And then to greet the young New Year, 
 
 The joyous bells shall toll. 
 
 Upon your patriarchal brow, 
 
 I note a sombre cloud ; 
 Poor friend ! your hours are numbered now, 
 
 You'll soon be in your shroud. 
 Perhaps amid a much-loved few, 
 
 Who've reached the mystic shore, 
 I'll hold communion yet with you, 
 
 Where parting is no more. 
 
 17
 
 258 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And if our worldly ways are there 
 
 A social bowl we'll drain, 
 Of nectar or some vinous rare 
 
 And sparkling- as champagne. 
 Amid the perfume gales that blow 
 
 Bound some celestial vine, 
 We'll chat of scenes we loved below, 
 
 In days of Auld Lang- Syne. 
 
 Expounders of the Scriptures say 
 
 Eternal joys await 
 All those on earth who fast and pray, 
 
 To reach the guarded gate, 
 Where ransomed souls shall enter in 
 
 To homes of endless love ; 
 If so, I'll purge my soul of sin, 
 
 So we shall meet above. 
 
 At last the parting hour has come, 
 
 I'll grasp your palsied hand ; 
 With arms reversed and muffled drum, 
 
 Your predecessors stand ; 
 They'll take you hence beyond the skies, 
 
 I hear the tolling bell, 
 As I repeat, with tearful eyes, 
 
 Dear Eighty-three, farewell.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 259 
 
 COME MY LOVE, WITH RAVEN TRESSES. 
 
 Come, my love, with raven tresses, 
 
 Here and sit beside me now ; 
 Come and give me sweet caresses, 
 
 While the- ring-lets from your brow 
 I will brush with touches tender, 
 
 'Till I see your face aglow, 
 In the tlush of joyous splendor, 
 
 Like the happy long- ag-o ! 
 
 Ah ! the years we've left behind us 
 
 Have been fraug-ht with care and strife ; 
 Yet they served to closety bind us 
 
 On the rug-g-ed road of life ; 
 For our hearts have never faltered, 
 
 Nor our love diminished cold ; 
 Thoug-h our features may ha.ve altered, 
 
 And the years have made us old. 
 
 We are drifting sure and steady 
 
 To the great unknown beyond ; 
 But when summoned we'll be ready, 
 
 We'll resignedly respond. 
 Dismal death can have no terrors 
 
 For an ang-el such as you ; 
 And your soul, devoid of errors, 
 
 Shall have mine shown mercy too.
 
 260 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 
 
 Hear the bells as they ring- pealing out on the 
 
 night ; 
 From their clear, brazen throats issue sounds of 
 
 delight ; 
 Through the portals of time there's a stranger 
 
 who comes, 
 'Mid the blare of loud trumpets and beating of 
 
 drums. 
 
 Let us give him a right royal welcome, and sing- 
 Out hozannas to God, for this juvenile King. 
 Let us all emphasize the old greeting sincere, 
 And exclaim full of meaning : " A Happy New 
 
 Year ! " 
 
 'Tis a custom enjoyed in all civilized lands 
 
 To go out making calls and take friends by the 
 
 hands 
 At the birth of the year, 'mongstthe rich and the 
 
 poor, 
 
 I have ordered my chariot 'round to the door. 
 Hear my Pegasus neigh ! He's impatient to fly ! 
 I am mounted at last and away through the sky ! 
 At the speed I am going I'll rapidly near 
 A few friends, whom I'll greet with a Happy New 
 
 Year. 
 
 I see Cleveland beneath. Down, my Pegasus, 
 down !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 261 
 
 I have got a few friends to salute in this town. 
 P. M. Arthur, your hand! Dash the clouds from 
 
 your brow, 
 
 For I'm not going- back to my darlings just now. 
 Till I pay my regards. Here's your hearty good 
 
 health ! 
 May your coffers keep full to o'erflowing with 
 
 wealth 
 
 Do not mind the decanter,it makes me feel queer 
 Most sincerely I wish you a Happy New Year. 
 
 T. S. Ingraham's next. Here's his latch-string- 
 outside, , 
 
 1 will enter. Good morning. I've had quite a ride. 
 I am here with an honest intention to take 
 Firm grasp of your hand for a friendly old shake. 
 Please convey to J. H. S. my kindest regards, 
 And just say that " Dead Beats " are not found 
 
 among bards. 
 
 Ere I leave let me trumpet-tone into your ear : 
 From my heart's depths I wish you a Happy New 
 Year. 
 
 Now,my noble old steed,toyour mettle once more, 
 Till we make a short call on a far distant shore. 
 There are mountains below, if my longitude's 
 right ; 
 
 Yes, the Rockies are here, on this crag I'll alight, 
 Till I find G. D. Folsom. A man who can sit
 
 262 SHANDY MAGtttRE. 
 
 In a car and delight us with learning and wit : 
 Ah, he's found amid nature's sublimity here. 
 Brother Folsom I wish you a Happy New Year. 
 
 Oh ! I'd like to go farther ; but see how the sun 
 Is outstripping my steed, that's enjoying the fun. 
 Every place where we call he drinks down to the 
 
 dregs. 
 
 By the aid of his wings he now steadies his legs. 
 How I'd love Californian wonders to see ! 
 And the almond-eyed, rat-eating heathen Chinee ! 
 But, my boys, though I cannot partake of your 
 
 cheer, 
 Take the will for the deed,and a Happy New Year. 
 
 Now I'moffto the South, where I'dgladly remain, 
 For the night of my steed is distracting my brain. 
 How the cities appear and dissolve into space ! 
 Here is Dixie below ; I will slacken my pace, 
 And alight. O, my boys, I'm delighted to say 
 That there's joy in my heart to behold you to-day ! 
 Please dilute that red liquid, pour lightly, I fear 
 I've indulged rather freely. A Happy New Year. 
 
 Bear me back to the East, while my senses remain, 
 'Mid the joys of to-day there are echoes of pain. 
 Brother Everett, the best of good wishes I bring 
 To your grief-stricken home, where old Death 
 left a sting-.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 263 
 
 1 expected to meet you at Buff 'lo, but heard 
 Of the speedy recall which our meeting- deferred. 
 Now, my worthy old friend, whom I'll always 
 
 revere, 
 May your grief be allayed by a Happy New Year. 
 
 Up and off to the shores of Lake Erie to greet 
 A few boys of Fifteen,ere our rounds are complete. 
 Here's a wide-open door, uninvited I'll call. 
 What a joyful surprise ! Pleasant evening to all ! 
 See ho wCallahan smiles as he pours out the wine 
 Brother Forestall, please put cold water in mine 
 Hank Glendenning, your health ! Let us drink 
 
 with a cheer 
 For the boys of Fifteen on this Happy New Year. 
 
 " Handy Andy," acushla ! I'll have to repent 
 For my feasting to-day, and do fasting next Lent. 
 You'll excuse me, I hope, I'm as " full as a tick." 
 And I've thrown for awhile, all my cares to Old 
 
 Nick. 
 
 Please uncork a fresh bottle, it's contents we'll 
 drain. 
 
 Fill our glasses once more full of fancy's cham 
 pagne ! 
 
 'Tis the "stirrup cup," Andy, ere homeward I 
 steer, 
 
 Which I drink as I wish you a Happy New Year.
 
 264 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Now for home. It is time to be stretched on the 
 
 bed. 
 There's the devil's tattoo drumming- round in my 
 
 head ! 
 
 If my steed wasn't jaded I'd ride through the sky 
 Wishing- Happy New Year till the Fourth of July. 
 As I entered my cot at Ontario's shore, 
 Here's the brief salutation I g-ot at the door : 
 " There's no need of me wishing you pleasure, my 
 
 dear, 
 For I see you've been having a Happy New Year." 
 
 TO MY BLACKTHORN CANES. 
 
 (PRESENTED BY MR. C. B. BENSON.) 
 
 You are welcome, gladly welcome, 
 
 And my heart is in a flame, 
 As I grasp you, meditating- 
 
 On the land from whence you came. 
 On that Island in the ocean, 
 
 Where Atlantic fiercely roars, 
 With a never-ceasing- fury, 
 
 On its weather-beaten shores. 
 
 What an eloquent description 
 
 Of that Island in the sea, 
 I have heard from him who brought you 
 
 From its verdant hills to me !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 265 
 
 With a tourist's eye he noted 
 
 How old Nature's lavish hand 
 Spread the richest scenes of verdure 
 
 In poor Paddy's native land. 
 
 You're a gnarled looking- stranger, 
 
 But you're welcome just the same ; 
 And, "my kippeen of shelalah" 
 
 You are not unknown to fame ; 
 For at patterns, fairs and races, 
 
 I have heard of you before, 
 Where the "peelers" fled before you, 
 
 Or lay sprawling- in their gore. 
 
 Where coercion acts are yearly 
 
 Manufactured to enslave 
 The aspiring thoughts of Paddy, 
 
 If for freedom he should crave ; 
 Where the right to carry arms 
 
 For protection is denied, 
 'Tis no wonder that Shelalahs 
 
 Are so noted far and wide. 
 
 You are now among the Yankees, 
 Where a man who toils for bread, 
 
 If he's sober, just and honest, 
 Can erectly hold his head,
 
 266 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And be peer among- his neighbors, 
 For no titled hordes have we 
 
 To debase us worse than cattle, 
 As they do beyond the sea. 
 
 So, my "splinter of shelalah," 
 
 And my two blackthorn canes, 
 You'll be kept amid my treasures, 
 
 While a throb of life remains. 
 For the sake of him who brought you 
 
 From old Ireland's rebel glades 
 You are all sincerely welcome 
 
 To my daily promenades. 
 
 NUDISVERBIS. 
 
 To WM. B. PHELPS, OSWKGO, N. Y. 
 
 On a feverish night I unconsciously strayed 
 
 Into one of my troublesome dreams, 
 When I fancied I saw, in his grave clothes ar 
 rayed, 
 
 My old friend, by the sun's setting beams. 
 As an earnest spectator I stood 'mid the crowd 
 
 Of deep mourners, dejected and dreary, 
 Where were chanted in accents of anguish aloud, 
 
 The grave strains of the sad Miserere.
 
 SHANDY MAGUlfcE. 26? 
 
 Soon the churchman arose, with a sanctified look, 
 
 To bestow the last rites on the dead, 
 And the service laid down for his guide in the 
 book, 
 
 He most fervent and feelingly read ; 
 At its close he selected a text and essayed 
 
 To mechanic'ly handle his theme ; 
 'Tvvas the standard formula church parliaments 
 made, 
 
 And I murmured dissent in my dream. 
 
 'Twas " From ashes to ashes and dust unto dust, 
 What the Lord gives he surely will take ; 
 In divine revelation we'll earnestly trust, 
 
 And be faithful on earth for His sake. 
 Now we'll tenderly place the remains in the tomb, 
 
 Till the arch-angel's trump from the sky 
 "Stand ye back !" I exclaimed, as I sprang- from 
 the gloom, 
 
 With the tears rolling down from each eye. 
 
 "Stand ye back, let me say a few words that are 
 
 not 
 
 On your glib, orthodoxical chart ; 
 Let me preach o'er the dead, on this grief-stricken 
 
 spot, 
 
 In the eloquent lore of the heart ; 
 For I've known him and felt the kind grasp of his 
 hand,
 
 268 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 As it gave me a magnetic thrill, 
 Like the touch of a holy seer's magical wand, 
 And its pressure is lingering still. 
 
 " There he lies with the life- tide congealed in his 
 
 veins, 
 
 For his spirit has vanished away, 
 And his heart that could throb for humanity's 
 
 pains, 
 
 Is now cold in its casket of clay. 
 I have known him to steal like a thief in the night, 
 
 With good cheer loaded down, to some door, 
 Where he'd quickly transform into thankful de 
 light 
 The complaints of the luckless and poor. 
 
 He ne'er paused to inquire of what country or 
 creed 
 
 Was the man whom he took to his heart, 
 But he hugged him up close with a miserly greed, 
 
 Nevermore from its shrine to depart. 
 Oh, he looked not to find geographical lines, 
 
 He was deaf to sectarian rules, 
 As he mingled with friends beyond narrow con 
 fines, 
 
 Of the bigoted, cynical schools. 
 
 He was human, and erred in those trivial things, 
 To which men who are human incline ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 269 
 
 Now, let all of you here who are faultless, spread 
 wing's, 
 
 And fly off from this earth, you're divine ; 
 Ah ! I see you remain, which is proof that my 
 dead 
 
 Benefactor had virtues so bright, 
 That have ransomed his soul, as it heavenward 
 
 fled, 
 Into mansions of endless delight. 
 
 "Brilliant flashes of wit instantaneously ran 
 
 Through these lips that are sealed evermore ; 
 Such a mind has been rarely bestowed upon man, 
 
 Full of choice chronological lore. 
 How his forefathers conquer'd or gloriously died, 
 
 As they fought for their country and right, 
 In the days when men's souls were most stren 
 uously tried, 
 
 Gave my friend patriotic delight. 
 
 "Systematic and strict were his dealings with all, 
 But his laws were with justice applied ; 
 
 If we erred and atoned he'd the balance let fall 
 To the humane and merciful side. 
 
 Ah ! he ruled us with kindness and treated us 
 here 
 
 As his equals, and not as his slaves. 
 We shall weep for him hourly, in anguish sincere, 
 Till we follow him into our graves."
 
 270 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 As I ceased, came a wail of response from the 
 crowd, 
 
 A most heart-rending 1 , ear-piercing- scream, 
 It arose like the belching- of thunder, aloud, 
 
 And awakened me out of my dream. 
 'Twas a giad transformation from grief to delight 
 
 As the vision of death fled in gioom, 
 To behold my old friend looking hearty and bright 
 
 Whom I fancied was laid in the tomb ! 
 
 THE EXILES. 
 
 They sat by the camp-fire,their day's toil was 
 over. 
 
 The song- and the chorus went merrily round ; 
 And yet an observer could plainly discover 
 That they were all exiles whose songs did 
 
 abound ; 
 
 They sang in full chorus grand anthems delighted , 
 
 Their memories wander'd to scenes far away ; 
 
 With hearts full of love their devotion they 
 
 plighted 
 To Erin, their mother, those exiles so gay. 
 
 They thought of the scenes where in boyhood they 
 
 sported, 
 
 The mountains, the meadoAvs, the rivers, the 
 plains,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 271 
 
 The fields where for pleasure they often resorted, 
 Were fondly remember'd in soul-stirring strains ; 
 Fond hope in each bosom was joyously spring-ing 1 , 
 
 Each face was aglow with remembrances 
 
 bright, 
 
 As back o'er the ocean their fancies went winging 
 To all their young frolicsome scenes of delight. 
 
 All true to the flag of Columbia, dearly 
 They loved to behold it's bright folds in the 
 breeze ; 
 
 But there,, in a bond of true brotherhood yearly, 
 They sang of the old land far over the seas ; 
 
 They pledged hertheir heart's deepest ties of affec 
 tion, 
 While life would remain they would faithfully 
 
 be; 
 
 They hoped ev'ry link in her chain of subjection 
 Would soon from her limbs be knocked off and 
 she free. 
 
 TWO PICTURES. 
 
 When wintry winds in fury beat 
 The habitations of the poor, 
 
 And stride along on nimble feet 
 To many an unprotected door ;
 
 272 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Oh, then, the suffering 1 ones within 
 
 Have agonizing- ills to bear, 
 As huddled round, in clothing thin, 
 
 They drink the dregs of dark despair 
 
 Convenient to the poor man's shed 
 
 A stately palace rises high ; 
 Its smallest stone, if sold for bread, 
 
 Would make the wolf of hunger fly. 
 Its fountains flash in brilliant jets, 
 
 From beams of massive chandeliers ; 
 No wonder that its lord forgets 
 
 The bitter wail of human tears. 
 
 His lady fair can hourly ride 
 
 In furs and robes of costly price ; 
 And on the frozen streets may glide, 
 
 In festive mirth, 'mid snow and ice. 
 Her days move on in joy serene, 
 
 Her nights amid the ball-room's glare 
 She's paid the homage of a queen, 
 
 By those who circle round her there. 
 
 The splendor of her equipage 
 Outrivals eastern chariots old ; 
 
 Her prancing steeds are all the rage, 
 Their trappings decked with virgin gold,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 273 
 
 Her lap-dog 1 has more tender care 
 Than thousands of God's lowly poor ! 
 
 'Tis fed upon such dainty fare 
 As will its brutish tastes allure. 
 
 Oh, if she'd only pause and think, 
 
 How much distress her wealth could save 
 Amongst the crowds that starving- sink 
 
 Down into many a nameless grave ; 
 Perhaps upon life's tragic stag-e, 
 
 A Christian part she'd of tener play ; 
 The tears of grief she could assuag-e, 
 
 And drive much discontent away. 
 
 See yonder child, her feet are bare, 
 
 Her half-clad body shakes with cold ; 
 The snow flakes kiss her tang-led hair, 
 
 More golden than the purest gold. 
 Alas ! she weeps for parents dead. 
 
 She seeks from passers-by relief ; 
 A penny or a crust of bread 
 
 Would dull the pangs of childish grief. 
 
 Poor waif upon life's stormy sea ! 
 
 Too soon your ill-starr'd 3 7 outh shall fade, 
 There's no relief or sympathy 
 
 From costly silks and rich brocade. 
 
 18
 
 274 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 In hearts like ours the echoes lie, 
 Which spring to life in accents wild. 
 
 Whene'er we hear the doleful cry 
 Ascend from poor misfortune's child ! 
 
 Down, pen ! more skillful hands than mine 
 
 Must wrestle with man's grievous wrongs, 
 And speak inspired from every line, 
 
 Instead of rude, discordant songs. 
 The task it seems devoid of hope ; 
 
 I fear the poor must drift in gloom, 
 Until the skies in glory ope, 
 
 To call us hence from out the tomb. 
 
 MY LOVE IS A BLOOMING YOUNG MAIDEN. 
 
 My love is a blooming young maiden, 
 
 Endowed with a frolicsome mind. 
 Her eyes are with witcheries laden, 
 
 As ever 'mongst maidens you'll find. 
 She's gentle, kind-hearted, and loving-, 
 
 And says she is faithful to me. 
 I fear her affections go roving 
 
 Too often in frolicsome glee.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 27o 
 
 One eve in the twilight I caught her 
 
 Up close in my fervid embrace, 
 And there on my bosom I taught her 
 
 The love of my heart in my face. 
 She tore herself off and she started 
 
 Away with the speed of the wind ; 
 'Twas thus in the gloaming we parted, 
 
 And lonely I linger 'd behind. 
 
 The next time we met 1 demurely 
 
 Sat listening to lectures she gave 
 Her mother's eyes watched us securely 
 
 I promised to always behave ; 
 Of course I surrender'd discreetly ; 
 
 What better just then could I do ? 
 Because I was shadow'd completely, 
 
 Right there with her mother in view. 
 
 The clock told the hour of leave-taking. 
 
 Young Flora strolled out in the porch, 
 Her sides full of laughter were shaking, 
 
 And I like a deacon at church, 
 Until we were clear of the prying 
 
 Her mother directed along ; 
 Again I embraced her, defying 
 
 The eyes that were watching for wrong.
 
 276 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 My kisses profusely were given 
 
 On lips luscious ripe to be pressed ; 
 I there had a foretaste of Heaven, 
 
 As I pretty Flora caressed. 
 When off from the gaze of her mother, 
 
 She g-ave all her feelings full play, 
 And, ere with affection we'd smother, 
 
 We tore ourselves slowly away. 
 
 MY FIREMAN. 
 
 There he sits with a smile on his black, smoky face, 
 And a droll-looking- glance in his eye, 
 
 As he notes how the "pointer " keeps up in its 
 place, 
 
 As our noble old steed seems to fly. 
 He's the happiest man to be found on the train, 
 
 For I promised I'd write him a song, 
 To the air of that musical, pious refrain : 
 
 " And we'll Roll the Old Chariot along." 
 
 Yes, I'll write him a rhyme ; 'tis the least I can do 
 
 For a lad whom I really admire, 
 And, besides, my dear reader, he's one of the few 
 
 Who can closely attend to his fire.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 27 v 
 
 He imagines he has a fine, musical ear, 
 Though he can't tell a march from a jig ; 
 
 And his voice, which he fancies melodiously clear, 
 Has a trill like the grunt of a pig. 
 
 But aside from his musical talents, he knows 
 
 He is gifted in ways I despise ; 
 All the men on the trains are our deadliest foes, 
 
 Just because he's the father of lies ; 
 And many a time in the cab when we've found 
 
 A full share of annoyance and grief, 
 A train man or two we'd see prowling around, 
 
 To berate the uncrucified thief. 
 
 If it's tallow or waste we're in need of he'll seek 
 Out the place where they hide their supplies, 
 
 And will pilfer sufficient to last us a week, 
 Right from under the baggage-man's eyes. 
 
 There is scarcely a trip that we make but I'm 
 
 starved, 
 For I never yet knew him to fail 
 
 In selecting the tid-bits, all seasoned and carved, 
 
 Which I carry for lunch in my pail. 
 
 He shall soon change his seat right across to the 
 
 place 
 Where the wrinkles shall furrow his brow,
 
 278 SHANDY MAGUTRE. 
 
 And the deep lines of thought shall be marked on 
 his face, 
 
 That looks beardless and boyish just now. 
 All his monkeyish tricks shall be brought to a 
 close, 
 
 For when once he's promoted he'll find 
 That he'll need all his thoughts for protection of 
 
 those 
 Who are riding in coaches behind. 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. 
 
 Dear Friend : The time is opportune, 
 This evening in delightful June, 
 To spend a pleasant hour with you, 
 Whom I admire in friendship true. 
 The Moon is floating like a queen ; 
 In azure skies she moves serene ; 
 All nature is in silent mood, 
 No sound upon my ears intrude. 
 I upward turn my eager eyes 
 To penetrate the silent skies ; 
 But, Jim, Alas ! my sluggish brain 
 Can't comprehend the starry train 
 That move along throug'h upper air, 
 Nor see the power that keeps them there.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 279 
 
 But this I know : agnostics may 
 Proclaim their creed till dooms dread day, 
 And yet, in spite of all they say, 
 There is a being" who can sway 
 This universe, and who can trace 
 The track of all that move in space, 
 Can guide them and direct them still, 
 To move according to His will. 
 What puny things we mortals be, 
 Mere insects tossed upon life's sea, 
 And yet, we often times incline 
 To doubt there is a power divine. 
 Sure all created things we view 
 Proclaim a great Creator too. 
 I'm of your faith and can agree 
 Convinced by sights I daily see. 
 Opposed to each contracted creed, 
 Where conscience never can be freed 
 From narrow bounds, from bigots' sneers, 
 From hypocritic scoffs and jeers. 
 Your faith is mine, 'tis grand and broad, 
 "Through nature up to nature's God" 
 We worship, with the silent heart, 
 And eyes which see our God impart 
 His mercies here to all mankind, 
 With our full strength of heart and mind. 
 A few more years at best will tell
 
 280 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The whereabouts of Heaven and Hell ; 
 If all we heard since glorious youth 
 From preachers' lips are words of truth, 
 Or simply planned to make us feel 
 The thrust of wiley churchmens' steel. 
 I think the last, and Jim, I know, 
 Like me you scoff eternal woe. 
 My eyes are loaded down with sleep, 
 I'll into bed this instant creep, 
 I'll sermonize no more to-night, 
 But mail you this at morning's light. 
 
 DEDICATION LINES. 
 
 READ AT ROCHESTER, N. Y., BEFORE THE MEMBERS OF DIVISION 
 18, B. OF L. E. 
 
 To dedicate this splendid hall 
 
 To friendship, and each mystic rite, 
 Is why we've gathered, one and all, 
 
 Who are assembled here to-night. 
 The brave and fair are in accord, 
 
 With smiles and cheers to speed you on, 
 And 'round your sumptuous festive board 
 
 You wear the laurels you have won.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 281 
 
 When man shall toil for fellow man 
 
 To aid him in his hour of need, 
 He fills the great Jehovah's plan, 
 
 And proves a brother true, indeed ; 
 'Tis such you've proved who in this hall 
 
 Are circled round in modest mien, 
 And we are honored by the call 
 
 To join the members of Eighteen. 
 
 At this baptismal font we see 
 
 Paternal sponsors standing round, 
 Who always will our guardians be 
 
 While justice in our laws abound; 
 They're honored men, your city's pride, 
 
 Whom you have made by vote and voice, 
 I see them here on every side, 
 
 Distinguished as the people's choice. 
 
 From Manitoba to Peru, 
 
 From San Francisco o'er to Maine, 
 We're sure to find our brothers true 
 
 To duty's call on every train ; 
 And friends spring up to help us on 
 
 They've done it oft and will again 
 Because our Order rests upon 
 
 Approval of our fellow-men.
 
 282 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And, brothers, here's our worthy Chief, 
 
 Who truly fills Jehovah's plan, 
 In every sense, 'tis my belief, 
 
 That Arthur is an honest man. 
 For ten long 1 years his counsels wise 
 
 Have led us safely on our way, 
 Until our strength and growth surprise 
 
 Our best and dearest friends to-day. 
 
 Well done, Eighteen ! tho' but a part 
 
 And parcel of the mighty whole, 
 Your acts shall thrill each brother's heart, 
 
 Where'er he be between each pole. 
 The widows' and the orphans' prayers 
 
 Ascend like incense to the skies, 
 To guard and keep you from the snares 
 
 Of envious men's detracting lies. 
 
 No dynamiters here are we, 
 
 Nor enemies to social laws ; 
 Our Brotherhood shall foremost be 
 
 In every good and worthy cause. 
 We'll upward build, no shameful brawl 
 
 Shall ever mar our path of right, 
 As proof, behold this splendid hall 
 
 We're dedicating here to-night !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 283 
 
 IT IS BETTER TO SING. 
 
 It is better to sing- of g-ood frolic and fun, 
 
 And to whistle all care to the wind, boys. 
 Than to sit and repine and all merriment shun, 
 
 With a brake set on heart and on mind, boys. 
 To the devil we'll fling- ev'ry pulse throb of pain 
 
 That keeps beating confined in our breasts, boy s . 
 YeSjWe'll burst every link of the sorrowful chain, 
 
 Which we nurture right under our vests, boys. 
 
 'Tother evening 4 young- Flora came tripping- along 4 , 
 
 With her tresses afloat in the breeze, boys. 
 Sure she captured my heart with her musical 
 song, 
 
 And she made me soon feel at my ease, boys. 
 Oh ! I guzed in her eyes lit with honor and love, 
 
 And I felt as courageous as Mars, boys. 
 Although I'm as gentle and kind as a dove, 
 
 For her sake I could march to the wars, boys. 
 
 I was sad ere we met, but her beautiful hand, 
 
 Which she placed in my big 4 , brawny fist, boys, 
 Made me joyous as any one found in the land ; 
 
 For its thrill I could never resist, boys. 
 So you see there is no use in nurturing grief, 
 
 And hugging- it close to your heart, boys. 
 Better win some young Flora to give you relief, 
 
 Then the blues will all quickly depart, boys.
 
 284 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO THE OFFICERS AND MEMBERS 
 
 OF THE LADIES' SOCIETY OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF LOCOMOTIVE 
 ENGINEERS, BURLINGTON, IA. 
 
 While we live we'll hear of wonders, 
 
 I suppose they'll never cease, 
 For with each succeeding season 
 
 They all rapidly increase ; 
 But the latest startling- wonder 
 
 That salutes our listening- ears, 
 Is a pioneer Division 
 
 Of our lady engineers ! 
 
 I'm delighted, full of rapture, 
 
 Yes, and rigmarolling fire, 
 For I see there's no profession 
 
 To w r hich woman can't aspire. 
 Now we find her at the throttle, 
 
 Let us hail her with a cheer ; 
 Let each brother send a greeting 
 
 To each sister engineer. 
 
 I extend you all a welcome, 
 You shall find I have the grip, 
 
 And the mystic salutation, 
 Which we plant upon the lip. 
 
 It was rather dry embracing 
 Through the long years past and gone,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 285 
 
 But henceforth we'll use the lip signs 
 With our sisters every one. 
 
 'Tis surprising- to me, ladies, 
 
 How you ever clasped the throat 
 Of our roystering, rambunctious, 
 
 Rampant, rollicking old goat. 
 I confess the night I rode him, 
 
 He was in a roaring rage, 
 But perhaps his pranks are cooling, 
 
 Like all human goats, with age. 
 
 Well, you're in, and you are welcome 
 
 As the flowers that bloom in May, 
 And I know 'tis woman's nature 
 
 Amongst social lads to stay ; 
 We will treat you as our equals, 
 
 For you've nobly paid your fees, 
 And we'll let you take our places 
 
 When o'erworked and needing ease. 
 
 Heretofore men did the running, 
 Now the husband trips may change 
 
 With the wife, who'll take his engine, 
 On a plan they'll both arrange ; 
 
 He'll stay home and mind the babies, 
 'Twill be penance for his sins,
 
 286 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 If, like me, he's blessed with squallers, 
 In the shape of healthy twins. 
 
 He can pack, key up, set wedges, 
 
 And do all the oiling- round, 
 Ere the engine leaves the station, 
 
 So she'll take her safe and sound ; 
 . Then, as off you're booming, ladies, 
 
 Watch each house when passing by, 
 And perhaps some other darling 
 
 Of your husband you may spy. 
 
 She will think he's on the engine, 
 
 And may gently wave her hand 
 To salute him when he's passing, 
 
 With a sign he'll understand ; 
 If your nature should be jealous, 
 
 And you meditate a crime, 
 Should you stop the train to kill her, 
 
 You'll be pulled for losing time. 
 
 And when back you come with vengeance 
 Bubbling up at every breath, 
 
 Give the lad you left dry-nursing, 
 Time to pray before his death. 
 
 You are sure to think he's guilty, 
 And will have your own sweet way,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 287 
 
 Yet, before the lamb is slaughtered, 
 Let him have a chance to pray. 
 
 Keep your temper with your fireman, 
 
 For you'll often need his aid, 
 But avoid the guy conductor, 
 
 Be you widow, wife or maid ; 
 If you don't you'll live to rue it 
 
 With a sad, remorseful mind, 
 For I know some sly old devils 
 
 'Mongst the tinselled caps behind. 
 
 I will be your guardian angel, 
 
 And protect you from the snares 
 Of those oily-tongued deceivers, 
 
 With their sweet, seductive airs ; 
 I'll applaud your undertakings 
 
 With a hearty voice and pen, 
 And, before the year is over, 
 
 You may hear from me again. 
 
 THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE. 
 
 Oh ! you grandly rolling river 
 
 That majestically rides 
 On your pathway to the ocean, 
 
 Bearing on the countless tides,
 
 288 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 From the mighty lakes above you, 
 With an undiminished force, 
 
 Since old Time first sent you bounding 
 On your never-ceasing course. 
 
 You have filled my heart with rapture, 
 
 As I gazed in speechless awe 
 At the noble works of Nature, 
 
 Which within your bounds I saw 
 At the loveliness profusely 
 
 Scattered over many miles ; 
 Where the Master-hand triumphant 
 
 Decked the famous Thousand Isles. 
 
 Here is foliage surpassing 
 
 All the tints and rainbow dies, 
 Which the sun in mid-day splendor, 
 
 Grandly paints from azure skies ; 
 We find shade and sunshine blended, 
 
 Em'rald green and burnished gold ; 
 Making up a vision splendid 
 
 And surprising to behold ! 
 
 How transparent are your waters ! 
 
 There the angler's vision tells 
 Where the finny tribe are sporting 
 
 In the rocky rifts and dells ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 289 
 
 There with hook and line delighted, 
 
 In his birchen-tree canoe, 
 He may sport amid the treasures 
 
 Which are lying- 'neath his view. 
 
 Hear the strains of music rising- ! 
 
 See the stately steamers ride, 
 With their happy group of tourists 
 
 On its clear, translucent tide ; 
 Mark the yachts whose safe manoeuvres 
 
 Keep them clear of countless oars, 
 Which are sending- liquid di'monds 
 
 Rippling- onward to your shores ! 
 
 When the queen of night is reigning-, 
 
 With her starry train above, 
 It is then all hearts commingle 
 
 In the bonds of fervent love ; 
 From your depths they are reflected, 
 
 Just as peaceful as the smiles, 
 Which the angels lavish fondly, 
 
 To salute thee, Thousand Isles. 
 
 Oh ! Great Being, omnipresent, 
 
 Teach our hearts to render praise 
 For the blessings which You send us, 
 
 Lead us all to know Your ways ; 
 
 19
 
 290 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And when life on earth is over, 
 Let our souls to You arise, 
 
 From such scenes as here I'm viewing-, 
 To our home beyond the skies. 
 
 MOONLIGHT FANCIES. 
 
 Pass your pipe along-, partner, and here 
 
 You and I'll have a sociable smoke, 
 For the evening- is balmy and clear. 
 
 And fair Luna's forgotten her cloak ; 
 Throug-h the deep azure hue of the sky, 
 
 She triumphantly rides like a queen, 
 And she looks with a ravishing- eye 
 
 Fondly down on all nature serene. 
 
 Such a night how I love to recall 
 
 The dear scenes of our youth up to view, 
 When we fancied life's highway was all 
 
 A delightful parade for us two ; 
 Ere the trials and battles begun 
 
 To be fougiit for the bread which we eat ; 
 When each yearned to march as a man, 
 
 With the crowds who were throng-ing the 
 street,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 291 
 
 Then, how slowly the weeks seemed to roll, 
 
 And old Time seemed a laggard, whose feet 
 Would ne'er lead to the coveted goal 
 
 Where fruition of dreams we would meet ; 
 Now, we're awed at the progress he made 
 
 O'er the years like a meteor's flight, 
 And oh, friend ! how I sigh for the glade 
 
 Where we sported in boyhood, to-night. 
 
 What a fanciful picture we drew 
 
 Of a future remote from us then, 
 Of the paths which we both should pursue, 
 
 When we'd march to the music of men. 
 We were sure of success on the road, 
 
 And we dreamt not of hopeless defeat ; 
 All unheeding we joyfully strode, 
 
 Ever future ward fortune to meet. 
 
 When 'twas wealth we aspired to sit down, 
 
 And don't jump from my side in disdain 
 For there is not a pauper in town 
 
 Has more right than myself to complain ; 
 When 'twas love see that mouthful of smoke ; 
 
 Note how quickly it faded in air ; 
 'Twas an emblem of Cupid's sweet yoke, 
 
 When we browsed on the lips of the fair.
 
 292 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 How we thirsted for fame, and we prayed 
 
 For the time when we'd march with a gun 
 Did you find it the day that you made 
 
 Such a race for the rear at Bull Run ? 
 Or the day you ran old Ninetj'-Four 
 
 Through the flock of fat gobblers and saw 
 The old farmer, who furiously swore 
 
 That he'd shoot you according 1 to law. 
 
 Well, we've all got a mission to fill ; 
 
 There's no changing Jehovah's decree; 
 And the terminal station is still 
 
 In the distance for you, friend, and me. 
 Let us faithfully run thro ugh the strife, 
 
 Till the trip of our lives shall be o'er, 
 Till old Death shuts the throttle of life, 
 
 And sets brakes on eternity's shore. 
 
 THE EXILE'S RETURN. 
 
 The wharf -lines off are quickly cast, 
 
 And we are outward bound at last. 
 
 The skies are fair, the tide is free ; 
 
 Our course is to the open sea. 
 
 Our voyage, happily begun, 
 
 Points eastward to the rising sun ; 
 
 Where boyhood's scenes, long years gone by,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 293 
 
 Attract us, and we backward hie, 
 To have a brief sojourn. 
 And now, to each remember'd place, 
 Fond mem'ry dearly loved to trace ; 
 Where flowers bloom the year around, 
 And health in ev'ry breeze is found, 
 The exile's steps return. 
 
 Our noble steamship cleaves her way 
 With steady speed through ocean's spray ; 
 Each revolution of her wheel 
 Vibrates along 1 her noble keel, 
 Which stood the crash of mountain seas, 
 And many a chilly wintry breeze. 
 She bears us on, our hopes and fears, 
 The dreams of many toilsome years 
 
 Will soon be realized. 
 Old Erin's hills once more to view, 
 Arising from the waters blue ; 
 Again to step upon her soil, 
 And for a season flee from toil, 
 
 Are wishes dearly prized. 
 
 Perhaps some callous heart may sneer 
 At all those tender feelings dear, 
 Which cluster 'round our early days 
 And merit more than passing praise ;
 
 294 SHANDY 
 
 Which rise with every heaving- breath, 
 To bear fruition ere our death ; 
 A steady wish, once more to view 
 Those bye-gone scenes of roseate hue, 
 
 Which fancy can beguile. 
 Where first a father's love we felt, 
 Or at a mother's knee we knelt, 
 And learned to lisp the simple prayer, 
 For God to guard our lives from care, 
 
 In Erin's sainted isle. 
 
 The man whose noble heart can feel 
 The glorious sports of boyhood steal 
 In through the cares of riper years, 
 Until his eyes o'erflow with tears, 
 Can judge the joy of him whose hopes 
 Are cluster'd 'round the sunny slopes 
 Of cloudless youth, life's morning prime, 
 When backward to his native clime 
 
 He goes in middle age ; 
 Expecting everything the same, 
 As when he felt youth's joyous flame, 
 Amid companions, blithe as e'er, 
 Defied the touch of cruel care 
 
 To mar life's opening page. 
 
 The liberated clouds of steam 
 Above the funnels brightly gleam ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 295 
 
 The engines groan with toiling stroke, 
 
 And backward trail dense banks of smoke. 
 
 The log-book tells of rapid strides 
 
 We daily make o'er ocean tides ; 
 
 It tells we near the wished for shore, 
 
 From which we sailed long years before, 
 
 Across the Western main. 
 And now, like pilgrims to a shrine, 
 We swiftly move through trackless brine. 
 Before another sun shall fade, 
 A landing may be safely made 
 
 On Erin's shores again. 
 
 Behold beneath the morning skies 
 A glorious scene of grandeur rise ! 
 Oh, joyous sight ! Oft wished for day, 
 For which the exile's heart did pray ; 
 Through thirty hoary winters long, 
 We sighed for you in prayers and song, 
 And now our eyes are bless 'd at last, 
 Dear Erin we are nearing fast 
 
 Before a pleasant gale ! 
 Our decks present a moving mass 
 Of anxious people as we pass 
 By chalky cliffs and em'rald hills, 
 A rapture through each bosom thrills, 
 
 When nearing old Kinsale !
 
 296 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Upon our beam we sight Trarnore, 
 And soon our voyage shall be o'er. 
 Our feet shall touch the sainted sod, 
 Where humble hearts salute their God, 
 At every rising of the sun, 
 And when his course is westward run. 
 Dunleary ! after many years, 
 Again we shed pathetic tears, 
 
 Unchecked they slowly fall ; 
 For moments such as these we sighed, 
 When moving 'mid the ceaseless tide 
 Of busy men, who throng the plains, 
 Where priceless Freedom truly reig'ns, 
 
 Impartially for all. 
 
 But where are those we hoped to find ? 
 The comrades dear we left behind ? 
 The loved companions of our youth, 
 Whose hearts were filled with hope and truth ; 
 Who played with us on primrose banks, 
 Long, long ago, in boyish pranks, 
 When fleet of foot, and light of heart, 
 We studied neither grace nor art 
 
 Upon the village green ; 
 But true to nature, whiled away 
 The hours, until the sun's last ray 
 Had faded o'er the flow'ry plain,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 297 
 
 Or sunk beneath the heaving main ? 
 
 The3 r 're nowhere to be seen. 
 
 The very houses, once so tall, 
 
 Appear diminutive, and all 
 
 The things we conned in mem'ry o'er, 
 
 Are lost to view for evermore. 
 
 The daisies seem to be less fair 
 
 Than when we wove bright garlands there 
 
 Long years ago, the birds, whose song 
 
 Did through our yearning fancies throng, 
 
 Discordantly we hear. 
 All things have changed. The churchyard 
 
 where 
 
 A mound was scatter'd here and there, 
 Is now a mass of simple stones, 
 Where lie entombed the mold'ring bones 
 
 Of those we loved so dear. 
 
 Oh, hopes we cherished, daily prized, 
 Expecting they'd be realized. 
 Alas ! our sighs and tears were vain 
 When hugging each delusive train, 
 Which longing fancies fondly wove 
 Around the scenes of early love. 
 The gulf dividing youth and age, 
 O'er which a weary pilgrimage 
 
 Reluctantly was made,
 
 298 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Can ne'er be crossed, how e'er we crave 
 To bridge it o'er this side the grave ; 
 Its depths contain the buried joys, 
 Entombed since we were careless boys, 
 And froliced in the glade. 
 
 The sunny slopes, and winding- streams, 
 Oft visited in countless dreams ; 
 The wooded hills, the teeming plain, 
 O'er which we viewed the waving grain ; 
 The mossy dells, the leafy grove, 
 Where we in early years did rove ; 
 The river clear, which swept along, 
 The birds we heard in ceaseless song, 
 
 Have all so sadly changed ! 
 They never more will look the same 
 As when we felt the glowing flame 
 Of happy childhood, long ago, 
 Because our eyes are dimm'd with \voe, 
 
 And hearts with care estranged. 
 
 TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS. 
 An attack of malaria which lasted a week, 
 Had a wholesome effect, as I now am quite weak. 
 
 And altho' convalescing, yet sad ; 
 Oh ! I thought : is the battle of life with its ills
 
 SHANDY MAGtTIRE. 299 
 
 To be finished at last amid fevers and chills, 
 Ere the spirit ascends to its God ? 
 
 When the pulse of the heart's running 1 rapidly 
 
 high, 
 And a lack-lustre glance indicates in the eye, 
 
 That 'tis time to prepare for the worst, 
 What a long chain of ills will parade in full view, 
 Every one looming up with a sulphurous hue, 
 
 Which our own selfish bosoms have nursed. 
 
 As we gaze with the unclouded eye of the mind, 
 Over scenes which we thought were forgotten 
 
 behind, 
 
 How we shiver and shake with dismay. 
 In our health 'twas our boast the good times we 
 
 enjoyed, 
 
 But in illness we find the illusion destroyed, 
 And for pardon most humbly we pray. 
 
 * 
 When old Death hovers nigh how the conscience 
 
 can sting, 
 As the spirit prepares far away to take wing 
 
 From the casket which bore it in life. 
 But the Lord only knows on what course it will 
 
 fly, 
 
 Whether up in a joyous career to the sky, 
 Or go down to contention and strife.
 
 300 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 How my thoughts travel'd back with a yearning 
 
 * delight 
 To the springtime of life when the future looked 
 
 bright, 
 
 As I gazed down the vista of years ; 
 Then I never once dreamed as the future did ope 
 To my view from the top of youth's mountain of 
 
 hope, 
 That the distance held valleys of tears. 
 
 In such rapid succession the seasons sped on, 
 Very soon the bright visions of youth were all 
 gone, 
 
 Nevermore to enliven the scene. 
 I have found, as so many discovered before, 
 That the thorns lie thick on each path we explore, 
 
 On the mountains, and valleys between. 
 
 How we murmur about our disconsolate lot, 
 In a rancorous mood, just because we have not 
 
 An abundance of this world's wealth ; 
 If we'd pause, and reflect, in our hearts we would 
 
 prize, 
 As the best of all gifts sent us down from the 
 
 skies, 
 The enjoyment of bodily health. 
 
 Ask a man on his bed when he's tortured with 
 pain,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 301 
 
 If his thoughts are distracted by miserly g-ain. 
 
 If his answer be "yes," then we know 
 That he'll order a pocket put into his shroud, 
 So he'll carry his hoarding's away from earth's 
 crowd, 
 
 To the place he's expecting- to g-o. 
 
 What a fool! All the wealth that was ever 
 
 concealed 
 In the bowels of earth to his soul wouldn't yield 
 
 Half a second of peaceful repose ; 
 Little use will he have for his ducats when Death 
 Lifts the scales to blow oil' all his miserly breath, 
 Ere the clay rattles down on his nose. 
 
 There are many who'll laugii at the tone of my 
 song-, 
 
 Who imagine their lives are devoid of all wrong-, 
 And their acts can pass muster on higii ; 
 
 Let them once g-et a chill which shall shake them 
 all o'er, 
 
 From the roots of their hair to their heart's in 
 most core, 
 
 And then truly confess what they'll spy. 
 
 It will make us content with what fortune may 
 send, 
 
 And when life's checkered voyage approaches its 
 end,
 
 302 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 If we're poor we can think ourselves blest ; 
 We are sure to be placed just as deep in the clay 
 As the men who bequeath all their millions away , 
 
 And can go more contented to rest. 
 
 AT THE GRAVE OF AN INFANT. 
 
 The mother's heart is sear'd with woe, 
 
 Her dearest hope is fled ; 
 The tears in torrents downward flow, 
 
 Her first-born boy is dead. 
 The friends who gather 'round the sod 
 
 Would fain assuage her grief ; 
 But she alone must look to God, 
 
 To give her heart relief. 
 
 A few short moons he nestled near 
 
 Her kind, maternal breast, 
 Where, twined around her heart-strings dear, 
 
 She'd lull him off to rest ; 
 She'd closely scan his infant face, 
 
 As in her arms he'd lie, 
 And ev'ry want she'd quickly trace. 
 
 Beneath her watchful eye.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 303 
 
 Like flowers, chilled with frosty air, 
 
 He wilted in his bloom ; 
 And now, behold him lifeless there, 
 
 Above his childish tomb. 
 The mother's tears are rolling- free 
 
 Upon the casket lid, 
 But in a moment more he'll be 
 
 From human eyesigiit hid. 
 
 Ah ! yes, strew flowers on his grave, 
 
 All you with senses calm ; 
 But for the mother's grief I crave 
 
 Some sympathizing 1 balm ; 
 A tempest rages in her breast, 
 
 Her hopes are 'neath the sod ; 
 She'll never more find tearless rest, 
 
 Till with her babe and God. 
 
 TO THE MEMBERS OF DIVISION NO. 136. 
 
 A REPLY TO COMPLIMENTARY RESOLUTIONS SENT TO THE AUTHOR, ON 
 RECEIPT OF HIS PHOTO. 
 
 I have always had faith that the future would 
 
 bring- 
 
 A fewgif tsfrom Miss Fortune to help me along, 
 How the jade at my ear did delusively sing 
 Of her plans for my welfare, in soul-stirring; 
 song-,
 
 304 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 But,alas! like the pay master's car on some roads, 
 When I thought her at hand, from my grasp 
 
 she would slip. 
 
 Yet, she'd feed me with smiles,which were silver- 
 gilt goads, 
 And she'd stuff me with hopes just as worthless 
 
 as scrip. 
 
 She is coming again from some boys in the west, 
 
 And she's singing a song most delusively sweet, 
 
 Telling how they're uniting to "feather my nest, ' ' 
 
 For a trip to old Erin with outfit complete. 
 Oh, the joy of my heart is unbounded to-night. 
 'Tis a fact and not " blarney " I'm giving you 
 
 now, 
 
 For there's nothing can give me one-half the de 
 light 
 As a European voyage, salt billows to plow. 
 
 How I yearn to view the green fields of my birth ! 
 
 I would like to see Padd}^, as found in his home, 
 
 Till I'd note him, tho' shackled, all bubbling with 
 
 mirth, 
 Which he never forgets in the climes where 
 
 he'll roam ; 
 
 Save a renegade few, whom all mankind despise, 
 Who'd deny their old mother, and spit in her 
 
 face. 
 
 How they struggle their accent and names to dis 
 guise,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIBE. 305 
 
 Thoug-h the map of the island is stamped on each 
 face! 
 
 We have Charlies from Kerry, and Williams 
 
 from Clare, 
 We have Delias from Carlow, and Jules from 
 
 Athlone, 
 We have Raymonds from Wicklow and Hanks 
 
 from Kildare, 
 
 And we've red-headed Celias just out from Ty 
 rone! 
 
 By the Gods ! I aver they were Biddies and Pats, 
 In the land where potatoes must pass for a 
 
 feast, 
 Where their honest old fathers first christened 
 
 the brats, 
 
 With the aid of some patriot, God fearing-- 
 priest. 
 
 Oh, I love the old land, tho' in shackles she pines, 
 And I dream of the valleys, each river and rill, 
 To he found dotted over the verdant confines 
 Of her borders, where freedom is sought after 
 
 still. 
 May each reneg-ade wretch with a sand-papered 
 
 tongue, 
 When it wag-s to deny her with scotf and with 
 
 sneer, 
 
 Be cut off from communion all mankind among", 
 Till some sheriff persuasively tickles his ear. 
 
 20
 
 306 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 I will bring- every member of One-Thirty-Six 
 
 A decoction of blarney out fresh from the stone ; 
 But,my boys, if I judge by your roy storing 1 tricks, 
 
 You have got a sufficiency now of your own. 
 I see Cavner is out with a Quixotic plan 
 
 For the good of the boys, which I very much fear 
 Will not work, till we 're sure of perfection in man, 
 
 Or until the much-looked for Millenium's here. 
 
 The old ship of the Brotherhood 'sboomingalong, 
 
 With her bunting all set to prosperity's gales ; 
 Don't you think, Brother Cavner, the act would 
 be wrong*, 
 
 Should we alter her course or the set of her sails? 
 There's no sign of a tempest on weather or lee, 
 
 Not a pirate's on board that we know of to-day; 
 So my boy, let her float guyly over the sea, 
 
 As she's steering at present in glorious array. 
 
 To you all my regards. Keep my face to the wall 
 When the wives of some Mormon are visiting 
 
 'round. 
 
 'Tis a fashion of ladies to visit each hall 
 Where a handsome collection of boys may be 
 
 found. 
 
 There's but one wife allowed to each man in New 
 York,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 30? 
 
 And the man who wants more must be proof 
 
 against fire ; 
 
 As for me, I must keep pretty steady at work 
 For the lady who's wedded to Shandy Maguire. 
 
 A WEDDING PRESENT TO J. T. K. 
 
 I suppose it is my duty 
 
 A few compliments to pay 
 To the bride and groom together 
 
 On their glorious wedding day ; 
 I will do it, but I'm doubtful 
 
 If this rhyme will suit your ear, 
 Yet, we ofttimes have to listen 
 
 To some truths we hate to hear. 
 
 A few months ago I dragged you 
 
 From the tomb of one 1 knew 
 To be upright, true and faithful, 
 
 During twenty years, to you. 
 And I pitied you sincerely, 
 
 For 1 truly thought you'd rave 
 Everlastingly about her, 
 
 Till you'd join her in the grave.
 
 308 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 You put crape upon your engine, 
 
 And you wore it on your hat, 
 And you looked like Misery's mother, 
 
 As within the cab you sat ; 
 Then, I thought you grieved sincerely, 
 
 Now, I know it was a plan 
 You invented, so the ladies 
 
 Would know where to seek a man. 
 
 And one found you, Jerry, darling. 
 
 She's a simple little fool, 
 That's but lately out of short-clothes, 
 
 And had better be at school, 
 Than to wed a man whose whiskers 
 
 Are kept dyed from chin to ears, 
 To conceal the grizzled tell-tales 
 
 Of his forty-seven years. 
 
 "Sure an old fool is the worst fool," 
 
 As my mother often said, 
 And I've always known her, Jerry, 
 
 To have wisdom in her head. 
 Folks will take her for your daughter 
 
 Promenading at your side, 
 Till some wag will kindly tell them : 
 
 "It is Jerry's bouncing bride."
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 309 
 
 I have been surmising- lately 
 
 There was "something- in the air," 
 With your laundried linen daily, 
 
 And your oily head of hair, 
 As you'd go to pull a coal train, 
 
 Scarcely noting passers by, 
 With your nose at such an angle, 
 
 That it pointed to the sky. 
 
 You would sport a cane on Sunday, 
 
 As you went to see your love, 
 And each greasy hand was hidden 
 
 In an over-crowded glove ; 
 And you tried to look as boyish 
 
 And as youthful as your son ; 
 But, you old, deluded driv'ler, 
 
 We were laughing at the fun. 
 
 Man, when in the "roaring forties" 
 
 Going down the grade of life, 
 Has a soft spot in his noddle, 
 
 When he wants a second wife ; 
 He is sure to seek a young one, 
 
 For some reason of his own, 
 And he needs her just as badly 
 
 As a hungry dog a stone.
 
 810 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 You will soon need porous plasters 
 
 Pasted all along your spine, 
 And you'll take a nervous palsy, 
 
 And 3 T ou'll have a quick decline, 
 And you'll need a pair of crutches, 
 
 And a doctor, and a nurse, 
 And perhaps your bouncing- beauty 
 
 May be wanting a divorce. 
 
 She'll soon tie your toes together 
 
 With a half a yard of tape, 
 And upon your nickle door-knob, 
 
 She shall hang a bunch of crape ; 
 And she'll stand beside your coffin 
 
 Shedding glad tears on your face, 
 Thinking on what youthful lover 
 
 She shall marry in your place. 
 
 My dear, married, lady-readers, 
 
 There's a moral to my song, 
 Which you've found if you have closely 
 
 Scanned its truthful lines along ; 
 You have all got "Jeremiahs" 
 
 Who're impatient for the time 
 When old Death shall send you booming 
 
 Up to some celestial clime.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 311 
 
 I advise you most sincerely 
 
 To be careful of your health, 
 You will find it pay you better 
 
 Than accumulating 1 wealth, 
 For some second wife to squander 
 
 On her captivating- charms, 
 Once your husband has her snoring 
 
 In his old, delighted arms. 
 
 TO A FRIEND. 
 
 I have just got the news of your marriage, 
 
 Indeed, 'twas a pleasing surprise, 
 Sent from one who would always disparage 
 
 The brilliancy beaming from eyes 
 Which are lit by the loves and the graces, 
 
 Bewitchingly dancing in joy ; 
 And could laugh at all maidenly faces 
 
 That sought to ensnare you, my boy. 
 
 You've been caught in the soft, silken netting, 
 Which Cupid around you entwined ; 
 
 Yes, and all your past sermons forgetting, 
 You entered the bondage resigned.
 
 312 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 I suppose you took leave of all others 
 
 You lavished affection upon ? 
 For in marriag-e, you know, like our mothers, 
 
 We're only entitled to one. 
 
 Now, adieu to the nights which we sported 
 
 Around the convivial board ; 
 Where a few social fellows resorted, 
 
 With minds full of merriment stored. 
 Where we ling-ered from nig-ht until morning 1 , 
 
 Carousing- in story and song ; 
 Till old Sol would peep in to give warning 
 
 'Twas time to be moving- along-. 
 
 I suppose all the keepsakes, and tokens, 
 
 And trophies of love you possess, 
 From the girls which you said were heart-broken, 
 
 You returned to console their distress ? 
 If you havn't, make haste, boy, and do it, 
 
 'Twill make your path smoother through life, 
 Or if not, time will come when you'll rue it, 
 
 If ever they're found by your wife. 
 
 When we meet in the future, demurely 
 We'll talk like two deacons in prayer ; 
 
 With a drawl to protect us securely 
 Against our dear wives' critic stare.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 313 
 
 They will think we were saints ere we met them, 
 They'll fancy that each won a prize, 
 
 And imagine us anxious to get them 
 But, boy, we'll throw dust in their eyes. 
 
 All our old, glorious evenings are over, 
 
 We'll simply salute and pass on ; 
 We'll no longer wade knee-deep in clover, 
 
 Our nights of carousing are gone. 
 We will sigh when we think of the chorus 
 
 We raised from a union of throats ; 
 Hereafter, dear boy, we've before us 
 
 A very rich crop of " wild oats." 
 
 If I ever meet Fanny, I'll tell her 
 
 Her charms are on the decline ; 
 And I'll ask what misfortune befell her 
 
 Her chances on you to resign ; 
 And if Susie, or Nellie, or Mollie, 
 
 Remember your light-spoken vows, 
 I will say you repent of your folly, 
 
 And wish you had each for a spouse. 
 
 Now, I'll do a friend's share in consoling 
 
 The darlings you parted in grief ; 
 For, like you, I've a knack at condoling 
 
 With maidens to give them relief ;
 
 314 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Yet, I don't think they'll die broken-hearted, 
 Because you are married and gone ; 
 
 They know many a maid you deserted, 
 Before YOU struck colors to one. 
 
 AWAY WITH YOUR FLIMSY ROMANCES. 
 
 Away with your flimsy romances, 
 
 All you who sit dreaming- of love ; 
 In wedlock you take many chances, 
 
 When tied to your conjugal dove. 
 The one to please me must he mistress 
 
 Of wholesome, culinary art, 
 And move through my sensitive stomach 
 
 Right into the joys of my heart. 
 
 Bright eyes may be pleasant to gaze on. 
 
 And lips may be lusciously sweet, 
 They'll please you, perhaps, for a season, 
 
 Until you need something to eat ; 
 But when all your vitals are gnawing 
 
 For dishes more solid than air, 
 The smiles of the darling won't stifle 
 
 The stings of your appetite there.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 315 
 
 If she can preside in the kitchen, 
 
 With other accomplishments too, 
 Why, then-, you may call her an angel, 
 
 Whom Heaven conferred upon you. 
 I'd never complain of her features, 
 
 Tho' coarse every lineament be, 
 But call her the fairest of creatures, 
 
 Who feeds me on good things at tea. 
 
 Or when from the bed in the morning 
 
 To breakfast I'm told to arise, 
 To see her the table adorning, 
 
 Can give me most joyful surprise. 
 The smell of rich coffee's enticing, 
 
 The toil of the day it beguiles, 
 I start to my duty rejoicing, 
 
 And kiss her good-bye full of smiles. 
 
 "All beauty's skin deep" says the proverb, 
 
 And liable quickly to fade, 
 Remember it well when your choosing 
 
 Some artful, young, exquisite maid ; 
 Be sure she can cook a good dinner, 
 
 For, mind you, when beauty is gone, 
 'Twill save you being damned as a sinner, 
 
 To know such a prize you have won.
 
 316 SHANDY MAGtIIRE. 
 
 TO A REPORTER. 
 WHO COMPLIMENTED A CONDUCTOR. 
 All ! say you so, Mr. Reporter ? 
 
 Indeed, it is wonderful news ! 
 And really, I think 'tis a subject 
 
 Quite worthy an hour with my Muse ; 
 For I've known Tom for years,and I've pulled him 
 
 A many a mile, off and on, 
 And I like to partake of the pleasure 
 
 Men feel when their work is well done. 
 
 It is pleasing- to see in your paper 
 
 A name that's as worthy as his, 
 And your readers will all be delighted 
 
 To witness the smile on his phiz ; 
 And yourself but of course it is fancy 
 
 Which runs throug-h my ignorant brain 
 When I say for that "puff" you'll be welcome 
 
 To ride when you choose on his train. 
 
 To the brig-lit, sparkling- eyes of the ladies 
 
 A hero he's certain to pose ; 
 He's all smiles, like a cat in the cupboard, 
 
 With dishes of cream at her nose. 
 How the darling-s admire his white linen, 
 
 His di'monds, his watch-chain, and rings, 
 Oh, they'd think him an angel off duty, 
 
 Except that he's minus the wings.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 317 
 
 How the furrows of care are now creeping 
 
 Unbidden his features about ; 
 They are there from the torture he suffers 
 
 Each day that his coaches go out. 
 The suspense of his calling- is fearful ! 
 
 The strain on his nerves is severe ! 
 And the cushions in coaches are thorny 
 
 To sit on in comfort, I fear. 
 
 When the nights are dark, foggy, or rainy, 
 
 Torpedoes may fail to explode, 
 And the train may be suddenly halted 
 
 At stations not marked on the road ; 
 For his eyes, ever watchful of danger, 
 
 Can see far ahead in the night, 
 But he'll soon make the passengers happy 
 
 By telling- them things are all right. 
 
 When the pumps will not work how he worries. 
 
 And often injectors will " break ; " 
 It is sad at such times how he'll suffer ; 
 
 In mental affliction he'll shake. 
 When the pointer goes back, or when bearings 
 
 From friction are smoking- and hot, 
 'Tis a pitiful sight to behold him 
 
 Bewail his responsible lot !
 
 318 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 With the mercury down below zero, 
 
 And chilled from his head to his toes, 
 One would think that he'd die from exposure, 
 
 As icicles hung- from his nose ; 
 In the drawing-room car is no comfort 
 
 For Tom, when the snow-drifts are high, 
 But the boys in the cab are in clover, 
 
 When Boreas shrieks wild through the sky. 
 
 At a halt, or a jar, or a movement, 
 
 Which comes unexpected, he'll frown; 
 And sharp words in profusion he'll mutter, 
 
 Regarding his blue-shirted clown ; 
 Oh, how wise then the passengers think him, 
 
 When fears he'll create to allay, 
 For they know his cool head will protect them 
 
 From obstacles strewn in the way ! 
 
 I could sit here a week eulogizing 
 
 His curly, executive head, 
 But a voice is discordantly jarring 
 
 The strings of my lyre from the bed ; 
 And the stars in the eastward are fading- 
 
 Away from the track of the sun, 
 So dear Mr. Reporter, good-morning, 
 
 All further temptation I'll shun.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 319 
 
 COME, FILL UP YOUR GLASS TO O'ERFLOWING. 
 
 Come, fill up your glass to o'erflowing, 
 
 And drink to the time when we met ; 
 When hearts were with merriment glowing 1 , 
 
 In days we're too apt to forget, 
 When you and I followed our fancies, 
 
 Regardless of where we would stray, 
 Providing sweet lilies and pansies 
 
 Were blooming along by the way. 
 
 We sipped of the sweets which were growing 
 
 On lips luscious ripe to be pressed. 
 We fondled the dear ones, well knowing 
 
 The pleasure they'd feel when caressed. 
 Now fill ! Here's to Susie and Mollie 
 
 We loved long ago in their teens ; 
 Who always felt social and jolly, 
 
 And acted as graceful as queens. 
 
 Bethink you the night in the gloaming, 
 
 When sweet airy-nothings we wove, 
 To please the young maids who were roaming 
 
 Beside .us in Mayberry's grove ? 
 Come, drain off a bumper to Fannie, 
 
 The darling who strolled at my side, 
 And I will fill up to dear Annie, 
 
 Who^laughed when you called her your bride.
 
 320 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 Once more let us fill while we've reason, 
 
 And Mem'ry presides on her throne ; 
 Our hearts can feel joy for a season, 
 
 When thinking- of days that are gone. 
 We've care to contend with too often, 
 
 When breasting- the billows of strife, 
 So, here's to the thoughts which can soften 
 
 The buffets we meet with in life. 
 
 Too soon will enjoyment be over, 
 
 And full every line on the page ; 
 We'll live the remainder in clover, 
 
 And laugh in the teeth of old Age. 
 With wine we can drive away wrinkles. 
 
 Now, fill up our glasses once more ; 
 We'll not care for Time when he sprinkles 
 
 Our locks with gray hair from his store. 
 
 TO J. D. HAMMOND. 
 
 What a tramp you have had through the realms 
 
 of thought ! 
 
 How the corns must torture your feet ! 
 And what byways and hidden resorts you have 
 
 sought 
 
 Through the years that have vanished so fleet ! 
 I had almost forgotten the days you recall
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 321 
 
 From your memory's plentiful store, 
 Light your dudeen, avick ! till we'll chat over all 
 Those bright days that we'll never see more. 
 
 Nearly twenty long- years since the night that 
 
 we made 
 
 Our debut on the stage to the throng ! 
 Oh, how quickly old Time is descending life's 
 
 grade, 
 
 As he drags us reluctant along. 
 How we fancied that night what great actors we 
 
 were, 
 
 And we looked for bouquets at the close, 
 But, alas ! save a cabbage head flung at us there, 
 No applause from spectators arose. 
 
 How you made up your phiz for a villainous part, 
 
 And how tragic you strode o'er the spot 
 Where you fancied the people would thrill at the 
 
 art 
 
 You displayed jibing "Judy O'Trot." 
 But, my boy, by the smoke that ascends 'round 
 
 my nose, 
 
 She soon brought'all your antics to grief 
 With the handy shillalah, concealed 'neath her 
 
 clothes, 
 As she hunted you off like a thief. 
 
 Sure poor "Flaherty" never was fit for a priest, 
 
 Holy church does not want such as he ; 
 
 21
 
 322 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 For he never could fast, but the first at a feast 
 
 Was the same sly, seductive Magee. 
 And old "Judy" is now a plump matron, whose 
 
 waist 
 
 Is as round as a hillock of hay ! 
 And yourself an old bachelor, stutfed up with 
 
 paste, 
 Which you use to drive wrinkles away. 
 
 " Ragged Pat " is still here puffing- mouthfuls of 
 
 smoke, 
 
 Doing- pennance in fevers and chills, 
 For the days and the nig-hts that he scoffed at 
 
 life's yoke, 
 
 And derided humanity's ills. 
 He is changed, I confess, and I fear for the worse. 
 
 Growing old with the buffets of time ; 
 Oh, I truly believe he inherits the curse 
 
 Meted out to all garblers of rhyme. 
 Dennis Hayes he is rich and respected besides ; 
 
 " Slang," he lives, but a warning to all 
 Who would dare follow woman, with serpentine 
 
 strides, 
 
 'For they surely will meet with a fall. 
 So, take warning, my boy, and go get you a wife, 
 
 You are yet a good looking gossoon ; 
 Find some old woman's daughter to sweeten your 
 
 life 
 With a dose of " chin music," aroon !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 323 
 
 " Gentle Florence " is sleeping- the sleep of the 
 dead, 
 
 Where Ontario's clear, liquid wave 
 Rolls along- on the beach, in monotonous tread, 
 
 And besprinkles the grass on her grave. 
 And " Old Stone " has been judged by the Ruler 
 of kings, 
 
 At the throne of Jehovah on high ; 
 Let us hope he's an angel, adorned with wings, 
 
 'Mongst the Christ-ransomed souls in the sk}^. 
 
 How the memories afloat, clad in ghostly array, 
 
 Intermingled with smoke, as I write I 
 Let us fill a fresh pipe till we drive them away 
 
 To the graves of oblivion to-night. 
 In a few fleeting years at the most we will be 
 
 Their companions again evermore, 
 For we soon will be launched on that limitless sea, 
 
 Which no mortal did ever explore. 
 
 LITTLE BROWN EYES. 
 
 Here's my little brown-eyed beauty, 
 With her head of sunny curls. 
 
 She's the sweetest, and the dearest 
 Of all darling little girls.
 
 324 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 She comes laughing- when I call her, 
 And she'll jump into my arms, 
 
 Where I gaze in silent rapture 
 On her early budding- charms. 
 
 If I'm sad her ringing- laughter 
 
 Soon dispels the gloom away, 
 For her genial disposition 
 
 Can change night to glorious day ; 
 She is ever kind, and willing, 
 
 And obliging as can be ; 
 She is all my earthly treasure 
 
 With her carols full of glee. 
 
 With paternal feelings, tender, 
 
 I bestow each pure embrace, 
 Till she's nearly suffocated, 
 
 As I spread them o'er her face. 
 May the years pass lightly o'er her, 
 
 And the future have in store 
 Every virtue to endow her, 
 
 Till her days of life are o'er.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 325 
 
 TO "HANDY ANDY." 
 
 Handy Andy, what a spalpeen 
 
 Is your mother's darling 1 son, 
 And how droll you cut your capers 
 
 When you're dealing 1 out your fun. 
 You're a first-class bastinado 
 
 In the manner which you write, 
 And a moralizing rascal, 
 
 Who pursues me day and night. 
 
 How you gloat about my torture, 
 
 When I'm shaking with the chills, 
 In the rhymes you keep prescribing, 
 
 That can gripe me worse than pills. 
 You are acting as a mirror 
 
 Holding up before my view, 
 Sins of which I know I'm guiltless, 
 
 Can I sa,y the same for you ? 
 
 If you look within your bosom, 
 
 If you'll pull aside the veil 
 Which conceals your imperfections, 
 
 And repeat to us the tale 
 Of all horrors you'll discern, 
 
 Through the years you left behind, 
 What a moral I will scribble 
 
 As a warning for mankind !
 
 326 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 You will find the ten commandments 
 
 Are all knocked in smithereens ; 
 All our holy church's precepts 
 
 You destroyed when in your teens ; 
 For pride, avarice, and envy, 
 
 Anger, gluttony, and sloth, 
 Are all sins of your commission, 
 
 I will take my honest oath. 
 
 You would like to tell me, Andy, 
 
 How to lead a better life ; 
 While yourself would play the rascal 
 
 With your neighbor's handsome wife. 
 But, beware ! the day of reck'ning 
 
 Has a story to reveal 
 Of your midnight capers, Andy, 
 
 That you never can conceal. 
 
 All the fishes in the ocean, 
 
 Served on Fridays and through Lent, 
 Will not purge away your follies, 
 
 In your efforts to repent. 
 You will need a scourging penance, 
 
 Like all hypocritic rogues, 
 Some sharp carpet-tacks well scattered 
 
 In a pair of cowhide brogues.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 327 
 
 I am not much of a Christian, 
 
 And I'll tell the reason why : 
 In my youth I suffered, Andy, 
 
 'Neath my good old mother's eye. 
 I was doomed for holy orders, 
 
 Where I'd lead a saintly life, 
 'Till the faculty determined 
 
 I had better take a wife. 
 
 So I'm here in toil and trouble ; 
 
 And hereafter, who can tell 
 Whether up I'll go to Heaven, 
 
 Or go down below to Well, 
 It don't matter where they'll send me, 
 
 I'll be found good souls among-, 
 Where I'll hear your cries below me, 
 
 Asking- ice to cool your tongue. 
 
 DOCTOR LAWRENCE REYNOLDS. 
 
 (DELIVERED AT THE BENEFIT ENTERTAINMENT, JUNE 15, 1882.) 
 
 Kind friends, assembled here to-night, 
 Whose gen'rous hearts beat high and warm 
 
 For him removed away from sight, 
 With hoary locks and aged form ;
 
 328 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Who struggles 'neath a stranger sky, 
 A mere subsistence there to find ; 
 
 Your presence here can testify 
 To numerous friends he left behind. 
 
 The lengthened shadows of his life 
 
 Are stretching into evening gloom ; 
 No kindred near, no child, no wife, 
 
 To smooth his pathway to the tomb. 
 But we who've known his better days, 
 
 When friendship seemed to smile secure, 
 Will ne'er refuse him well-won praise, 
 
 Who now is lonely, old and poor. 
 
 His creed is simple ; it is laid 
 
 Upon the universal plan 
 That Christ upon the Mount portrayed 
 
 When dealing with his fellow-man. 
 His heart is pure and free from guile, 
 
 His views are broad and unconfined ; 
 He scorns alike the bigot's wile 
 
 And all the unbelieving kind. 
 
 With pathos, mirth, and heart-felt song, 
 He wages ceaseless war on might ; 
 
 He never yet upheld a wrong, 
 But always advocated right.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 329 
 
 For this he's exiled from the shores 
 Where first he drew his native breath ; 
 
 For this he fought in Union wars 
 
 Where Treason met its bloody death. 
 
 Meagher's Brigade can testify 
 
 On many fields, how hard he strove 
 To keep forever floating high 
 
 The banner, which all freeman love. 
 Beneath the green flag in the van, 
 
 He faced the battle's cloudy marge, 
 Where blood in crimson rivers ran, 
 
 Which marked the valiant Irish charge. 
 
 He never asked the creed or clime 
 
 Of dying men upon the sod ; 
 But preached to all that text sublime, 
 
 To trust a universal God. 
 If human aid their lives could save, 
 
 He'd labor there to ease their pain ; 
 If not, the pathway to the grave 
 
 He'd smooth for every hero slain. 
 
 And such a creed as that will bind 
 The good and true of every land ; 
 
 And such a man will always find 
 
 Staunch friends to take him by the hand ;
 
 30 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Misfortune's bitter gales may blow 
 And strike such men with icy breath, 
 
 But friendship's grasp will ne'er let go 
 Till eyes are closed and sealed in death. 
 
 Oh ! had I but his gift of song, 
 
 And were his genius mine, I'd write 
 How well I thank the generous throng 
 
 Of friends, who love him here to-night. 
 Tho' absent we shall ne'er forget 
 
 How well he filled old Nature's plan ; 
 And till his sun of life shall set, 
 
 We'll aid the old and lonely man. 
 
 LINES READ AT A UNION MEETING, 
 BANGOR, ME. 
 
 Now, my brothers, imagine me standing before 
 
 you, 
 
 In talent, the least of our Brotherhood's bards. 
 I have made (in nry mind) this long trip to encore 
 
 you, 
 
 As here you' ve assembled, and pay my regards. 
 
 I have left the cold hills of New York, where the 
 
 waters 
 Are frozen for months in a vast, icy plain ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 331 
 
 Took a tramp, as it were, to the wives and the 
 
 daughters, 
 And husbands and Brothers, residing 1 in Maine. 
 
 Sure, methinks I see Tucker, that prince of good 
 
 fellows, 
 
 Who always is certain of Brotherhood cheers, 
 Because he is kind, as his actions all tell us, 
 
 And treats with respect all his loved engineers. 
 May his name sound along down the ages in 
 
 gladness, 
 Enshrined in the hearts of the good and the 
 
 brave, 
 'Till old Death whistles brakes, and we place him 
 
 in sadness, 
 To rest, as our tears we bestrew on his grave. 
 
 We brought Foss he's our Chief, and a kind of 
 
 a dandy, 
 His trips are all made with his gloves on his 
 
 hands. 
 How I'd like to write down just the same of poor 
 
 Shandy, 
 Whose fists are both greasy from scouring 
 
 the glands. 
 Brothers Angel and Spier, Keith, Towle, Lowe, 
 
 and Sampson, 
 
 Rowe, Richardson, Sweet, Ferry, Gilbert and 
 Dean,
 
 332 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Every one of them worthy a nobleman's ransom, 
 And faithful as any existing- in Maine. 
 
 And we've Fortier here too; yes, and Coburn 
 
 smiling-, 
 And Davis, and hearty, g-ood-natured "old 
 
 Dan," 
 Close, and Rafter, in mirth and the moments 
 
 beguiling, 
 
 With stories of numerous miles which they ran. 
 Brothers Hilborn, Gilpin,and Cobb are delighted, 
 
 And taking a little respite from rough toil ; 
 1 will mention one more who came near being 
 
 slighted, 
 You know I refer to my countryman, Doyle. 
 
 To the rest of you here, though denied of the 
 pleasure 
 
 Of saying I know you and met you before, 
 I will whisper my joy, the first moment of leisure, 
 
 And talk in the language of mystical lore. 
 Oh ! I know there is pride in each social reunion, 
 
 To tell it defying the power of my pen, 
 
 As we gather in crowds and converse in commun 
 ion, 
 Uniting' in friendship all Brotherhood men . 
 
 Tho' in Bangor we meet we are banded together, 
 Cemented by ties which are dear to each heart ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 333 
 
 And we come, disregarding- the distance or 
 
 weather, 
 
 I know with regrets from your town we'll de 
 part. 
 But while mem'ry survives we will think of this 
 
 meeting, 
 And shrine up the moments we spent at your 
 
 side, 
 
 Till assembled again for another such greeting, 
 Some day, not far off, as we future ward glide. 
 
 While we're true to the cause we'll be true to each 
 other, 
 
 And men will respect us all over the land ; 
 Let us prove there is more in the title of "brother," 
 
 Than simply the name and a clasp of the hand ; 
 If we do, Payson Tuckers all over the nation 
 
 Will surely befriend us when needing their aid ; 
 For each one can be faithful, tho' lowly in station, 
 
 And truthful and honest, while climbing life's 
 grade. 
 
 WINSOME JENNIE. 
 
 Winsome Jennie came to-day 
 
 With a wreath of smiles to meet me ; 
 As she spied me, when at play, 
 
 And with radient joy did greet me.
 
 334 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Childish curls hang-ing- down 
 O'er her neck, such sunny tresses ! 
 
 Not a sig-n of fear or frown, 
 Dealing out her sweet caresses. 
 
 Jennie, little can you tell 
 
 Of the years long since departed, 
 When your mother was a belle, 
 
 And I nearly broken-hearted ! 
 How the times have chang-ed since then ! 
 
 Here I'm now in mid-years, rather 
 Wrinkled, like all toiling men, 
 
 Old enough to be your father ! 
 
 I can see your mother's eyes 
 Sparkling- in unconscious gladness ! 
 
 But, they cost me many sighs ! 
 
 Yes, and nights of sleepless madness, 
 In the dreamy long ago ! 
 
 Ere the cup of youth flowed over, 
 And exposed its dregs of woe, 
 
 To her old time ardent lover ! 
 
 How my youthful fancies wove 
 Garlands out of airy notions ! 
 
 How I'd rhyme of dove and love, 
 Pledging all my heart's devotions !
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 335 
 
 Daily, hourly. Could it last ? 
 
 Well, it didn't, for we parted, 
 When our dream of love was past 
 
 Neither one died broken-hearted ! 
 
 When we meet so seldom now, 
 
 She is like some saintly sister ; 
 And denies each loving- vow 
 
 Which she made as oft I kissed her. 
 I am changed I must confess, 
 
 She has lost her former graces. 
 Silver streaks through ev'ry tress ; 
 
 Turkey tracks on both our faces ! 
 
 Handsome blonde ! I see her yet, 
 
 As in dreams I backward wander ! 
 When she swore to ne'er forget, 
 
 But through life to love the fonder. 
 Lovers' oaths ! A perjured train, 
 
 Retrospectively are dancing, 
 In each settled, sober brain, 
 
 Of those moments spent entrancing ! 
 
 Now, at last, our dreams are over, 
 And your fickle-hearted mother 
 
 Went to browse in other clover, 
 Like myself she wed another.
 
 336 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Winsome Jennie ! never tell 
 Of this resurrected story, 
 
 For, you know, my little belle, 
 Both our heads are growing hoary. 
 
 TO GRAND CHAPLAIN EVERETT. 
 
 You are now the Grand Chaplain of Brotherhood 
 
 men 
 
 And, by virtue of office, the "Sisterhood" too, 
 Will peruse with delight every flash of your pen, 
 
 And think them infallible coming 1 from you. 
 There's a license attached to your calling we 
 
 know, 
 
 You are sure of a welcome wherever you go. 
 'Tis a roving commission to steer where you 
 
 choose, 
 Just as free as the flights you partake with your 
 
 muse. 
 
 For a man with a clerical cut to his coat, 
 Will be sure of distinction and worthy of note. 
 'Tis a calling I love from the depths of my heart ; 
 They're the boys who can furnish us compass and 
 
 chart 
 
 For a flesh-purging trip, on the ocean of life ; 
 Where we're told to avoid all contention and 
 
 strife,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 337 
 
 And admonished to scourge the grim tempter 
 away 
 
 That has made his abode in our caskets of clay. 
 
 We are told to give alms, practice fasting and 
 prayer, 
 
 Whilst themselves can sit down to rich, sumptu 
 ous fare. 
 
 Yes, they mark out the course they insist we must 
 
 steer, 
 For the portals of Heaven, where bliss evermore 
 
 Will be meted out freely to each engineer, 
 When he climbs up the grade of the "Beautiful 
 Shore." 
 
 Now, my worthy old friend, theological schools 
 Do not teach all the wisdom this world contains; 
 
 For I've known one or two egotistical fools 
 Who supposed they were preaching to men 
 without brains. 
 
 On the fat of the land every day they could dine, 
 
 And they gargled their throats with full bumpers 
 of wine ; 
 
 Dressed in choicest of broadcloth for daily pa 
 rades 
 
 As they sauntered, consoling wives, widows and 
 maids, 
 
 You are not of this class, for I know you of old, 
 
 I am sure you will lead all the sheep to the fold. 
 
 Like the piper of Hamelin, your musical trills 
 
 22
 
 338 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Are the strains we will follow up Heavenly hills. 
 All the ladies here praise every song 1 from your 
 
 lyre, 
 And they say you sing sweeter than Shandy Ma- 
 
 guire, 
 I supposed myself once the high priest of the 
 
 dears, 
 
 Which I was till the darlings became engineers. 
 But, alas ! I'm dethroned, and you reign in my 
 
 place ; 
 
 For all clerical chaps with mellifluous gab, 
 With a smooth, oily tongue, and a meek looking 
 
 face, 
 Are more prized by the ladies than men in the 
 
 cab. 
 
 Oh, I wish that I'd never made rhymes about 
 
 goats ! 
 
 Or betrayed half the secrets our lodge-rooms 
 contain, 
 
 Or divulged to the " sisters " the way they could 
 
 note 
 How their husbands keep flirting when out on 
 
 the train. 
 Yes, I rhymed about twins, about squallers, and 
 
 brats, 
 
 For I hated them worse than the Kilkenny cats. 
 When a man runs all day he finds little delight
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 339 
 
 Crawling" home to the kids he must dry-nurse at 
 
 nigiit. 
 These were sorrowful thoughts, they influenced 
 
 my song-, 
 
 And my pen followed freely the stanzas along-, 
 As I thoug-ht of the bottle, the cradle and pair 
 Of young- monkeys, whose lungs could out-bellow 
 
 " a bear, 
 
 Or a master-machinist whose tongue g-ets untied 
 When he sees his pet engine come home on one 
 
 side. 
 When the fruits of our marriage come single 
 
 they'll do, 
 
 And they help to atone for our manifold sins, 
 
 But whenever they come in installments of two, 
 
 Heaven pity the wretch who's afflicted with 
 
 twins. 
 
 I would like to continue this subject, but Lord ! 
 
 How the ear-piercing screams of the imps in my 
 
 ears 
 Penetrate to my heart, till all writings abhorred, 
 
 And my eyes are a deluge of sorrowful tears. 
 In conclusion, a little advice I'll bestow : 
 Shun the ladies the same as your deadliest foe ; 
 Or if not, all the peace of your life they'll destroy, 
 And your laughter they'll change into weeping, 
 my boy.
 
 340 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Be they " Sisterhood Lodges " or " Lady Aid " 
 
 rings, 
 
 Individual sirens, or angels with wings. 
 If you practice these precepts I'm certain you'll 
 
 find 
 
 More serenity, comfort, and peace for your mind, 
 Than be singing for husbands to match with the 
 
 dears, 
 
 On a voyage in wedlock where hardship begins, 
 Where the market with some is controlled by the 
 
 "Bears," 
 And with others 'tis " Bulled" by cantankerous 
 
 twins. 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN CAMP, 1885. 
 
 They sat before a genial fire, 
 
 Their hearts were kindled with desire. 
 
 All trans-atlantic faces there, 
 
 And anxious looks each one did wear. 
 
 They peered into the growing gloom 
 
 The shades of night spread 'round the room, 
 
 As if they sought some comrade dear, 
 
 And listened for his footsteps near. 
 
 At last they heard the welcome sound, 
 
 As on the walk it did resound ; 
 
 The well-known form, in joyous song,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 341 
 
 Came caroling- in speed along 1 , 
 
 Till in their midst stood Rory Joyce, 
 
 The owner of the silvery voice, 
 
 With features all aglow ! 
 He was the spokesman of the band, 
 He searched for news of fatherland, 
 Then told it to his comrades dear, 
 Who caught it in each eager ear, 
 
 This tale of friend and foe : 
 
 " Oh ! boys," he said, " fill up each glass, 
 To-night the toast must freely pass ; 
 I've got some glorious news to tell 
 About the old land and Parnell ; 
 He's sweeping obstacles away 
 From Derry's wall to Bantry Bay ; 
 From shore to shore, from sea to sea, 
 He says he'll make old Ireland free. 
 On every hill the bon-fi res blaze, 
 Like erstwhile in the glorious days, 
 When noble Brian led his train 
 Of pikemen after fleeing Dane. 
 Election's over and he's won, 
 Without the aid of pike or gun, 
 
 Or shedding precious blood ; 
 In loyal bonds each man was bound, 
 And save one dastard all were found
 
 342 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Beneath his banner, till the tide 
 Of battle to our leader's side 
 
 Came rolling- in a flood. 
 
 " Oh ! think of all the hopeless years 
 We stood our foemen's haughty sneers ! 
 And when we sought redemption, blows 
 Were given to allay our woes ; 
 We suffered in our slavish chains, 
 The most excruciating pains ; 
 We sought to burst them, but we found 
 We were more tightly in them bound. 
 Disunion in our ranks plowed deep ; 
 Our foemen fruitful crops did reap 
 Of all the patriotic men, 
 Who failed to gain some secret glen. 
 The gallows, block, the rack, the rope, 
 Have oft extinguished Erin's hope, 
 
 And flooded her with tears ; 
 But soon again her sons would rise, 
 And struggle hard to win the prize, 
 Of freedom from the alien band, 
 Who terrorized our native land 
 
 For seven hundred years. 
 
 " But, boys, the clouds are rolling by 
 I see them with prophetic eye 
 The sun of freedom's glorious day
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 343 
 
 Shall soon send forth its genial ray, 
 Illuminating' hill and dale, 
 From Antrim's heights to old Kinsale. 
 From Galway's shores to Wicklow's hills, 
 The sweeping vales and babbling rills, 
 The plains of choicest em'rald green, 
 The rivers, gliding on serene, 
 Each old, historic field and height, 
 Shall soon enjoy the wished for light, 
 And Irishmen shall win applause, 
 By framing just and wholesome laws, 
 
 Where statesmen, eloquent 
 In all that makes a nation free, 
 Uniting men fraternally, 
 And legislating like the days, 
 When Erin did the world amaze, 
 
 In Grattan's parliament. 
 
 "Now fill and drink success to all 
 Who did obey our leader's call, 
 And may another Christmas eve 
 Behold a nation round him weave 
 Her brightest garlands, may he stand 
 The liberator of the land." 
 As Rory ceased each man a.rose, 
 And gave three hearty cheers for those 
 Who made the latest glorious fight,
 
 344 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And showed the world our cause is right, 
 
 That union in our ranks at last 
 
 Can win success. The ages past 
 
 Have proved how hrawls can wreak more woe 
 
 Within our midst than mail-clad foe, 
 
 Upon the tented field. 
 And there on old Kentucky's soil, 
 Those hardy sons of honest toil, 
 Who loved this land of freedom true, 
 Rejoiced that Ireland's landlord crew 
 
 Would soon be forced to yield. 
 
 A TRIP IN DREAMLAND. 
 
 I have mounted to Heaven on pinions of light, 
 Where St. Peter and I had a confab one night, 
 Talking over old times with the keenest delight, 
 
 As the stars far beneath us did gleam. 
 I have also been down to those regions below, 
 Which are sadly in need of a blizzard of snow, 
 W here the souls of the damned are expected to go, 
 
 But my visits were made in a dream. 
 
 From a thirty hours' trip t'other evening I sank 
 For a snooze on the welcome soft side of a plank, 
 With a big lump of coal which I took from the tank, 
 For a pillow to rest my tired head.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 345 
 
 I was soon in a dream and with hurricane speed, 
 On the back of a weird, supernatural steed, 
 I arrived at a place which looked dismal, indeed, 
 Where are kept in confinement the dead. 
 
 In an instant a palsy I took in my knees, 
 And my eyes at an angle of ninety degrees 
 Begun squinting- about like a rat stealing cheese, 
 
 And my horse fled away with a moan ; 
 I would give all the wealth I e'er saw to get back, 
 I'd be happy in snow drifts as high as the stack ; 
 Oh, I suffered the tortures of gibbet or rack, 
 
 When along came my friend Mick Malone. 
 
 " By the piper that played before Moses," said 
 Mick, 
 
 "You are lucky to get from the clutch of ould 
 
 Nick, 
 
 And you're welcome, a thousand times welcome, 
 avick ! 
 
 To a place in the penitent gang. 
 Take a seat, Shandy, dear, on this trunk of a 
 
 tree; 
 
 I'm delighted to see you, acushla machree ! 
 Light your pipe, take a whiff, and then pass it 
 
 to me, 
 For my lips are both blistered with 'whang.' '
 
 346 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 "Arrah! Micky," said I, "in the name of the 
 
 Lord, 
 What's the name of this country I'm in ? By 
 
 my word, 
 'Tis a bleak looking- place, and I never yet heard, 
 
 of a region so dismal before. 
 With a laugh he replied, "Purgatory, my boy, 
 And as bleak as it looks we have moments of joy 
 That a board of directors can never destroy, 
 
 In the manner they ground us of yore." 
 
 " Do you tell me so, Mick ? Faith I've heard of 
 
 the place, 
 'Tis a clime where poor souls must wipe off 
 
 their disgrace," 
 " You are right," said my friend, blowing into 
 
 my face 
 
 A whole mouthful of "Nigger-head" smoke. 
 " You've a long 1 time to stay, Brother Shandy," 
 
 he cried. 
 But your sentence it dates from the moment you 
 
 died, 
 You were lucky to have the good priest at your 
 
 side 
 To redeem you from IngersolPs yoke." 
 
 " Am I dead, Mick " I asked. " As a herring" 
 
 said he, 
 " Just as sure as you're sitting and talking with 
 
 me."
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 34? 
 
 "Well, if such is the case, I'm delighted to be 
 
 "With a comrade I truly admire. 
 Mick, I prayed for your soul many times since 
 
 the day 
 That we covered your body 'neath four feet of 
 
 clay, 
 When I scarcely could drag- your poor Jennie 
 
 away, 
 And I thought that she, too, would expire." 
 
 "Arrah, Shandy, how is my poor Jennie," he 
 said, 
 
 " Is she happy ?" " She is ; for, my boy, she is 
 wed 
 
 To a dashing- young- gent, who consoles her in 
 stead 
 Of a husband she sighed for like you. 
 
 Your insurance she got and she dressed up in 
 crape ; 
 
 By the aid of cosmetics and cotton, her shape 
 
 Would entice a poor hermit with mouth all agape, 
 And the dimes she had plentiful, too." 
 
 Mickey said not a word, but his eyes filled with 
 
 tears, 
 
 For he knew he was one of those soft engineers 
 Whose big toes are no sooner turned up on their 
 
 biers 
 Than their wives go in search of a "mash."
 
 348 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 In the richest of crape on the street they parade, 
 And they look with disdain on a simpering maid, 
 For they're posted in tricks of the man-catching 
 
 trade, 
 And, besides, they have plenty of cash. 
 
 There were numerous crowds of both sexes about, 
 Occupied in regrets for past actions, no doubt, 
 Or, perhaps, they were watching- a chance to get 
 out 
 
 O'er the well guarded walls of the place. 
 
 As they sauntered along there were many I knew; 
 
 'Mongst the females I saw I remembered a few, 
 
 And they all seemed to stare in surprise at me, 
 
 too, 
 
 With a look of delight on each face. 
 
 " Can you tell me," I said, speaking gently to 
 
 Mick, 
 
 Who kept weeping away at the dastardly trick 
 Which his widow played on him impatiently quick, 
 
 " Who is that fellow there on the right ? " 
 "He's a playboy," he said, "and Belisle is his 
 
 name, 
 
 Not a moment of peace have we had since he came, 
 He's a noted disturber, and fills us with shame 
 
 At the way he can pick up a fight."
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 349 
 
 "Who are these fellows here just appearing- to 
 view ?" 
 
 " They are Barry and Garland of One-Fifty-Two, 
 And a pair of sly codgers, between me and you," 
 
 Said my g-hostly old friend with a grin. 
 
 "Who is this fellow standing- abreast of us now, 
 
 With a smile on his broad, intellectual brow ? " 
 
 Mickey said : "He's the chap who kicked up such 
 
 a row, 
 
 In behalf of our widows, named Lynn." 
 
 In a moment or two M. J. Lynn moved along-, 
 Soon I heard a few words of a comical song-, 
 And I noticed Nat Sawyer, who moved with the 
 throng-, 
 
 By the side of a sweet little dear. 
 " Who's the lady," I said, who is walking- with 
 
 Nat ? " 
 
 " She's a skating--rink belle, and as spry as a cat, 
 But old Death came along- and he down on her sat, 
 
 And soon Sawyer caug-ht on to her here." 
 
 Georg-e Van Tassel strolled listlessly by with an 
 
 air 
 
 Of the deepest abstraction, akin to despair, 
 And the " Lives of the Saints " he perused \vith 
 
 great care, 
 As I judged from the look of his face.
 
 350 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Peter Gibson marched next in the scope of my eye, 
 He was singing a hymn called " The Sweet Bye 
 
 and Bye," 
 
 To a band of she-angels, all ready to fly 
 Far away from his saintly embrace. 
 
 " Who's that chap over there with a tear on his 
 
 nose, 
 
 And a clerical cut to his well fitting clothes ? " 
 " 'Tis your friend, Delos Everett," said Mick : I 
 
 arose 
 
 From my seat in the greatest surprise. 
 . "What's the matter?" he said. "Sure I thought," 
 
 I replied, 
 "From the manner he preached, that the moment 
 
 he died 
 
 Heaven's portals would swing to admit him inside, 
 To eternal reward in the skies." 
 
 " Behold Dutcher and Donaldson fronting us 
 
 there," 
 " Do you tell me so, Mick ? Point them out to me. 
 
 Where ? 
 Oh, begor ! now I see them, a beautiful pair 
 
 Of New Yorkers I truly behold ! " 
 " Here comes Ingraham, too, and his sentence is 
 
 light, 
 Very soon he'll be poising his pinions' for flight
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 351 
 
 To a place where good souls enjoy endless delight, 
 Over streets paved with ingots of gold." 
 
 "Be in order, my Brothers," in thunder tones 
 
 clear, 
 Came a voice like a dagger-thrust piercing my 
 
 ear. 
 Oh, I trembled in dread, as the Grand Chief drew 
 
 near, 
 
 With a ponderous gavel of oak. 
 "By the Lord, Mick, I'm off! let me bid you 
 
 farewell, 
 
 For I'd rather be down with the kid gloves in 
 -Tell 
 
 Billy Thompson to go for the skating-rink belle," 
 And in anguish of heart I awoke. 
 
 ON THE ORGANIZATION OF DIVISION NO. 167. 
 
 ORDER OF RAILWAY CONDUCTORS, OSWEGO, N. Y. 
 
 On occasions like the present, 
 
 There's a feeling of delight, 
 Radiating round my goose quill, 
 
 As the stanzas I indite ; 
 For a grand, new star has risen 
 
 In your galaxy, and I 
 Have a personal opinion, 
 
 'Tis the brightest in your sky.
 
 352 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 They're a band of noble fellows, 
 
 Each one filling- nature's plan, 
 And prepared to take position 
 
 In the Brotherhood of man ; 
 Upright, honest, gentlemanly, 
 
 Faithful, steadfast, tried, and true ; 
 Each one handsome as Adonis, 
 
 When arrayed in gold and blue ! 
 
 I have rode ahead of many, 
 
 During- long and tedious years, 
 And I know they're royal fellows, 
 
 Who admire their engineers ; 
 For their " All' aboard " is ready 
 
 When the time arrives to go, 
 And they cheerfully assist us 
 
 In the sunshine or the snow. 
 
 I have known them let our firemen, 
 
 Go and ransack through the train, 
 When in search of waste and tallow, 
 
 And they never would complain ; 
 For our engines here are limited 
 
 To beggarly supplies ; 
 And when stealing from the trainmen, 
 
 They are sure to shut their eyes.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 353 
 
 They have Bibles in their coaches, 
 
 Which they carefully peruse, 
 They know all about the Gentiles, 
 
 And are posted on the Jews ; 
 And when female ears are willing 1 , 
 
 How they pour the Scriptures in 
 To the darling- little creatures, 
 
 To avoid committing- sin ! 
 
 I have heard of some conductors 
 
 Who have captivating 1 smiles 
 To bestow on handsome ladies, 
 
 Riding- over many miles, 
 But I know it is a falsehood 
 
 Calculated to assail 
 The unblemished reputation 
 
 Of the blue-coats of the rail. 
 
 There was never yet an angel 
 
 Half as virtuous in life, 
 As the boys in this Division, 
 
 Each one faithful to his wife. 
 There's no Brigam Young amongst them, 
 
 Make a note you sirens all, 
 When upon their trains you're riding, 
 
 And expecting them to fall. 
 
 23
 
 354 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 They can take your whole dimensions, 
 
 From your crimson colored nose, 
 To the neatly turned ankle 
 
 You display in silken hose ; 
 And your perfumed breath in whispers 
 
 Passes powerless througii their ears ; 
 They are proof against seduction, 
 
 Try your wiles on engineers. 
 
 Now I think I've said sufficient, 
 
 And although 'tis written tame, 
 I desired to eulogize them 
 
 To the breezy heights of fame ; 
 But my Muse she is a groundling 
 
 That can never upward soar, 
 Where I'd love to place my heroes 
 
 'Mongst the gallant knights of yore. 
 ******** 
 
 I regret not meeting Chapman 
 
 When he made his visit here, 
 They all vote him a good fellow, 
 
 And I know they are sincere ; 
 But I send him honest greeting 
 
 Ere I drop my weary pen, 
 Though I'm but a simple unit 
 
 In the brotherhood of men.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 355 
 
 A NEGATIVE VOTE ON THE "WOMAN'S 
 DEPARTMENT." 
 
 Have a " Woman's Department !" God help us ! 
 
 We've too much of petticoat rule ; 
 We're crushed and caressed by the women, 
 
 'Till each one parades as a fool. 
 We have heard "womens' rights" from the 
 rostrum, 
 
 The pulpit, the press, and the pen, 
 'Till we cry from our hearts full of anguish, 
 
 " What rights are intended for men ? " 
 
 Have a " Woman's Department ! " I shudder 
 
 To think how your sex would employ 
 All the space we would vote you each number, 
 
 The peace of our lives you'd destroy. 
 You'd be writing of Tom, Dick or Harry, 
 
 And praising the cut of each jib, 
 'Till we'd all be your slaves, like old Adam, 
 
 From whom you have stolen a rib. 
 
 We have now many "Lady Divisions," 
 Where sisterhood grips are the rage, 
 
 Where the Brotherhood bo3 r s are berated 
 As slow for a husband-hood age. 
 
 We have "lady-aid" lodges and "circles," 
 And "socials," and lord knows what not.
 
 356 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Do you think for a Woman's Department 
 A space in our Journal we've got ? 
 
 We will vote you some space in our bosoms, 
 
 And give you a place on our knees, 
 Where we'll whisper the passwords and tokens 
 
 Essential to take your degrees ; 
 We will sing" you "soft nonsense" in plenty, 
 
 And keep your eyes dancing- with joy ; 
 But a Woman's Department no, never ! 
 
 I swear by each twin-tortured boy ! 
 
 Had you sent us a plan or prospectus, 
 
 Wherein your intentions we'd note, 
 Perhaps you'd have got the department 
 
 In spite of my negative vote. 
 "Oh, acushla machree," said my mother, 
 
 The night I marched off to be wed, 
 " If you'll take my advice you'll stay snoring, 
 
 Alone in your peaceable bed." 
 
 Gloomy wisdom of years ! sure the poet 
 
 Conceded he'd mystical lore 
 When he sang of events which were coming, 
 
 And casting their shadows before. 
 Had I heeded the warning she gave me, 
 
 The crow-feet of care would be light, 
 And my twins, who excite you to laughter, 
 
 Would be in oblivion to-night.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 357 
 
 You've a musical voice; I'm delighted 
 
 To welcome yourself to our ranks ; 
 You have taken my side against Everett, 
 
 For which I extend you my thanks. 
 He is trying to march with the ladies, 
 
 Whilst you and I laugh at the fun. 
 Very soon we will hear an explosion 
 
 Resound from a "breech-loading gun." 
 
 In behalf of my Brothers, 1 thank you, 
 
 Right here, in these lines of my song ; 
 Now the innocent boys may keep flirting 
 
 With women while passing along. 
 1 am glad my suspicions were groundless 
 
 When thinking them guilty of crime, 
 And their wives will unite with me, madam, 
 
 In lavishing praise on your rhyme. 
 
 THE HATS OUR- FATHERS WORE. 
 
 Hurrah for Grover Cleveland ; he's the leader 
 
 of our band, 
 The Moses who we long have sought to reach 
 
 the Promised Land, 
 Where plenty smiles on ev'ry side to bless the 
 
 wond'ring stare 
 Of those who long have sighed and prayed to 
 
 breathe its purer air.
 
 358 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And, now, we're marching- breast to breast, in 
 
 solid, stately tread, 
 
 A mighty army on the move, a victor at our 
 head. 
 
 Such columns of true Democrats were never seen 
 
 before 
 As here parade beneath the hats our honest 
 
 fathers wore. 
 
 Last night Oswego's streets ablaze with thous 
 ands in their pride, 
 
 Made sluggish blood course forth anew from 
 hearts long- sorely tried, 
 
 By grim defeat,in former years,but now the times 
 are changed, 
 
 For Democrats march side by side who have been 
 long estranged. 
 
 With flambeaus, flares, and oriflammes, with wild, 
 hilarious cries, 
 
 It seemed that Grover Cleveland's name did pene 
 trate the skies. 
 
 Our voices were like breakers on Ontario's rock- 
 bound shore, 
 
 A mighty host, beneath the hats our noble fathers 
 wore. 
 
 The very earth resounded with the glory of our 
 
 cause, 
 Presaging that right soon we'd have more pure 
 
 and wholesome laws,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 359 
 
 That plenty would the poor man bless, that thrift 
 
 would rule the land, 
 That idle wheels ag-ain should hum, and thievery 
 
 be banned ; 
 That men have burst the gulling- chains which 
 
 fettered them so long-, 
 That Rigilt shall crush the viper head of that 
 
 foul despot Wrong-, 
 
 That Cleveland will protect each man who'll 
 
 cross Atlantic o'er 
 To visit Europe 'neath the hats our good old 
 
 fathers wore. 
 
 I HAVE ROUGHED IT ALONG. 
 
 I have roug-hed it along- o'er the ocean of life, 
 And I've passed its equator some time. 
 
 'Twas a voyage so far amid turmoil and strife, 
 Where the seas rolled in billows sublime ! 
 
 I was awed by their grandeur, and long-ed for a 
 calm, 
 
 To escape from such vengeance awhile, 
 Which would give tomec jurage, a much needed 
 
 balm, 
 And illume my sad face with a smile. 
 
 Oh ! I love independence, and fain would I flg-ht 
 Till I'd gain it and live at my ease ;
 
 360 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Then I'd sing- with a free and untrammell'd de 
 light, 
 
 Just such songs as my fancy would please. 
 If I found out a tyrant, whose purse-bloated heart 
 
 Would be turned far away from the poor, 
 
 I would flay him until his two eye-balls would 
 start 
 
 From the place where he thinks them secure. 
 
 There's a Siren now singing- a song at my ear, 
 
 Where she sang it so often before, 
 And I fain would such soul-stirring melody hear, 
 
 Tho' I live its deceit to deplore ; 
 Sure she sings me there's land I will shortly enjoy, 
 
 Where the flowers in fragrance bloom, 
 Where its rightful possessor will not me annoy, 
 
 Once he's called to reside in the tomb. 
 
 I will surely inherit my forefathers' soil, 
 
 And it lies underneath the green sod, 
 Measures two feet by six, the reward of their toil, 
 
 Which they got as they left for their God. 
 Can a millionaire boast of an iota more, 
 
 When his spirit is summon'd from hence ? 
 He's no richer at death, tho' his coffers flow o'er, 
 
 Than the man with a few paltry pence. 
 
 Mausoleums rig-ht over his bones may arise, 
 Obelisks may ascend in the air,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 361 
 
 Yes and monuments tower aloft in the skies, 
 Telling 1 all of the dead under there ; 
 
 But the maggots will burrow right into his bones, 
 And the moths at his skull will grow fat, 
 
 And in time down will tumble the richly carved 
 
 stones, 
 Like the rim of my last summer's hat. 
 
 Heaven send me contentment, 'tis all I will ask, 
 
 And great riches 1 then can despise ; 
 Make a la.bor of love of each burdensome task, 
 
 Keep all troublesome clouds from my skies. 
 I will wish for no more, and I'll sing with delight, 
 
 Till the web of my life shall be spun, 
 Till the film of death shall shut earth from my 
 sight, 
 
 Ere the dawn of eternity's sun. 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. 
 
 MR. JAMKS CRONLEY. 
 
 Old friend, I'm proud to know that fame 
 
 Is circling 'round your honor'd name ; 
 
 That Fortune from her treasured store, 
 
 Has gifts to deal you out galore. 
 
 I feel a friend's delight in all 
 
 The luck that to your lot may fall.
 
 3G2 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To ev'ry goal, by honor led, 
 
 You travel with determined tread. 
 
 No place, however high you'll gain, 
 
 But you'll through honest means attain ; 
 
 And fill the trust with jealous care, 
 
 For those whose wisdom placed you there. 
 
 I've known you long, and I revere 
 
 Your friendship, which I found sincere. 
 
 The years are rolling onward now, 
 
 We've silver threads strew'd o'er each brow ; 
 
 On life's rough sea we're half way o'er, 
 
 And nearing fast the farther shore ; 
 
 But, Jim, our bark of life may glide, 
 
 Adown Time's steady ebbing tide. 
 
 We yet perchance may meet with shocks 
 
 From breakers, reefs, and sunken rocks ; 
 
 But always at the mast-head high, 
 
 True colors you will bravely fly, 
 
 And ever keep them there sincere 
 
 You are no changeful privateer 
 
 But like the line-of-battle ship, 
 
 Your cable you will freely slip, 
 
 To fight till you've the prize in tow, 
 
 And never strike a fallen foe. 
 
 A trenchant pen you well can wield, 
 
 And in the journalistic field 
 
 You've nobly won deserv'd applause,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 363 
 
 In ev'ry good and worthy cause. 
 You're climbing- to the breezy height 
 Where I admire you with delight, 
 Because I know you're tried and true, 
 And fame can make no change in you. 
 Oh ! may your star ascendent rise, 
 Until its brightness dim the eyes 
 Of those who are with envy green, 
 Since o'er their heads 'tis plainly seen. 
 Accept these lines sincerely penn'd 
 From one whom you have long time kenn'd. 
 No need to write a sentence more, 
 I'd but repeat things said before. 
 
 "NO SMOKING ON DUTY." 
 
 By your leave, my worthy masters, 
 
 I've a word or two to say 
 Ere I step upon the foot-board, 
 
 On my toilsome trip to-day. 
 I arise with humble bearing 
 
 To address the powers that be, 
 Who have caused such tribulation 
 
 To all smokers, such as me.
 
 3G4 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Long 1 before the beard of manhood 
 
 Blest the scrutinizing- stare 
 Of my many wistful glances 
 
 To detect a coming- hair, 
 I could whiff my granny's dudeen 
 
 With as comical a lip 
 As a passeng-er conductor 
 
 When he takes his maiden trip. 
 
 Those were years now scarce remembered 
 
 In the dim and misty past, 
 And since then my smoking- habit 
 
 In my nature's anchored fast. 
 'Twill be difficult to conquer 
 
 Such an appetite I fear. 
 And before my pipe is mastered 
 
 I will weep in grief sincere. 
 
 It has been a loved companion, 
 
 And as cherished as my bride 
 When the bloom of youth shone on her, 
 
 As she nestled at my side ; 
 And tho' now 'tis black and burned, 
 
 'Tis as cherished as of yore, 
 Like the lov'd one who's still reigning- 
 
 In my bosom's inmost core.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 365 
 
 In the many revolutions 
 
 We have witnessed on the rail, 
 It administered consolation 
 
 Which was never known to fail ; 
 And when things were working- badly 
 
 On the old mill we bestrode, 
 It dispelled, in clouds of incense, 
 
 All the troubles of the road. 
 
 When the pay car seemed to loiter, 
 
 It grew wheezy, rank and strong ; 
 As if something surely whispered 
 
 That affairs were going wrong. 
 But when once I'd sign the pay-roll 
 
 'Twas transformed to delight ; 
 Like an old maid's face when beaming 
 
 On the long-sought wedding night. 
 
 But messieurs, you are the masters, 
 
 And, of course, you have the brains, 
 While the nerves old Nature gave us, 
 
 To successful run the trains ; 
 So we yield you strict obedience, 
 
 No infraction shall you find, 
 From to-day henceforth no smoking 
 
 When oil duty in my mind.
 
 366 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 COME, BOYS, FILL YOUR GLASSES. 
 
 Come, boys, fill your glasses, and pledge me to 
 night, 
 
 To the hopes which we sigh for, each long sought 
 
 delight. 
 
 Let the nectar run freely, the liquid o'erflow, 
 We will drink to the dregs ere we rise, boys, to go. 
 Here's success to the standard that's gloriously 
 
 seen 
 
 On the field where the foemen retreat from the 
 
 green ! 
 Where the chains of oppression, which bound us 
 
 so long, 
 Shall be sunder'd by freemen who right every 
 
 wrong. 
 
 During centuries Slavery's curse on the land, 
 Kept us bound in her shackles,closetied was each 
 
 hand ; 
 
 In our councils divided, we struggled in vain ; 
 We were conquer'd and beaten again and again ; 
 But the clouds of dissension are drifting away, 
 And the sun o'er the hill-tops of freedom's fair 
 
 day 
 
 Is most surely ascending, its beams we can tell ; 
 And our armies are marching with statesman 
 
 Parnell,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 367 
 
 Our dear forefathers bore every brunt of the 
 
 fray; 
 And their mail-clad opponents they oft drove 
 
 away ; 
 
 Many fields can attest what their valor has won, 
 When each one had a pike, and each foeman a 
 
 gun; 
 
 'Gainst the science of war and artillery's roar 
 They would charge till they'd sink into rivers of 
 
 gore ; 
 Till the plain would be strewed with the dying 
 
 and dead, 
 And the green flag- be floating- hig-h over the red ! 
 
 Now in our day the battle once more is renewed. 
 We will fig-lit till the last haug-hty foe is subdued. 
 All our weapons are modern instruments made ; 
 To be used in the senate, where parties arrayed, 
 Will be sure to respect us, and hearken to those 
 Who are flaunting- the green in the face of their 
 foes; 
 
 So, my boys, fill each glass, let us drink with the 
 
 yell 
 Of our fierce *faugh-a-ballagh for statesman Par- 
 
 nell! 
 
 *Clear the way.
 
 368 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 THE FIRST GRAY HAIR. 
 
 They are coming, boys, they're coming ; 
 
 I discovered one to-day ; 
 "Pis a tawny looking- stranger, 
 
 And I fear it comes to stay ; 
 On my upper lip, disgusted, 
 
 I espied youth's dreaded foe, 
 In the spot the ladies lingered, 
 
 When they kissed me long ago ! 
 
 'Tis a signal on life's railroad, 
 
 Like the caution flags we spy, 
 When the trackmen fear fast running 
 
 May displace a rail or tie ; 
 And it tells in tones of warning 
 
 That old Time is jogging on 
 To the great, unknown hereafter, 
 
 Where earth's multitudes have gone. 
 
 'Tis a mystery what brought it ; 
 
 I am not so very old ; 
 Scarcely in the " roaring forties." 
 
 I suppose the heat and cold 
 Of our slavish occupation, 
 
 At all seasons of the year, 
 Hurried on the grinning rascal 
 
 That comes prematurely here.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 369 
 
 Or perhaps it comes from watching 
 
 Too intently at the gauge, 
 When the pointer travels backward 
 
 And each moment seems an age, 
 Trying hard to make a meeting 
 
 With the "flyer," nearly due, 
 As the water in a torrent 
 
 Courses out of every flue. 
 
 There's another cause suspected, 
 
 Which I'll tell in sober sooth : 
 I was somewhat of an angel 
 
 In the halcyon days of youth ! 
 And I lingered in the temple, 
 
 Where I prayed and fasted long, 
 Laying treasures up in heaven 
 
 And avoiding doing wrong. 
 
 But where'er it came from, surely 
 
 It is here upon my lip, 
 In the place the sirens dallied 
 
 All those honied joys to sip, 
 That have ravished soul and senses 
 
 With such keen, ecstatic bliss, 
 Many twilights spent in rapture, 
 
 Tasting beauty's luscious kiss ! 
 
 24
 
 370 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 
 
 Oh, dear Ponce de Leon, tell me, 
 
 From your dwelling- in the sky, 
 Where's the fountain which you sought for ? 
 
 Are its waters sealed or dry ? 
 If your search was not rewarded 
 
 When in life you sought its brink, 
 Now perhaps your clearer vision 
 
 Can direct me where to drink. 
 
 I will lave upon its bosom 
 
 Till. the wine of life shall course 
 Through my heart and brain delighted, 
 
 In its glorious, youthful force, 
 Till all ills and aches shall vanish, 
 
 And the clouds of care roll by, 
 Till the sun shall shine resplendent 
 
 From a clear, ethereal sky. 
 
 I am but a simple rhymer, 
 
 Yet I have a poet's heart, 
 And, if words would come for calling-, 
 
 I'd a lesson here impart 
 To all coming generations, 
 
 Calling loudly to beware 
 Of those heart-regrets to haunt them, 
 
 When they spy the first gray hair.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 371 
 
 THANKS FOR A CHRISTMAS TURKEY. 
 
 To W. B. PHELPS. 
 
 DEAR SIR : My humble thanks I send 
 
 To you, my much esteemed, old friend, 
 
 Who did my appetite allay, 
 
 With turkey roast this Christinas day. 
 
 Indeed he was a royal bird, 
 
 As e'er amongst his kind was heard 
 
 With gobble, strut and chuckle loud, 
 
 The king of all the feathered crowd, 
 
 His flesh was juicy, tender, sweet, 
 
 And brittle, so a babe could eat. 
 
 When I beheld him cooked and browned, 
 
 With smiling faces seated round 
 
 The festive board, I felt the thrill 
 
 Of gratitude, carousing still, 
 
 Within my thankful breast ; 
 With knife and fork I carved him quick, 
 I severed ev'ry steak as slick 
 As though a surgeon's scalpel, keen, 
 Flashed thro' his parts, both fat and lean, 
 
 Then dined with eager zest. 
 
 Of all the days throughout the year 
 To bring us hope, our hearts to cheer, 
 To-day stands first, for friends unite, 
 In festive mirth and pure delight.
 
 372 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And when the wassail bowl is full, 
 The brain must be extremely dull 
 That will not soar above the ground 
 To heights where social joy is found. 
 No monarch, on his throne of state, 
 Surrounded by the rich and great, . 
 Could look with hautier disdain 
 On all the ills in sorrow's train 
 Than I, when e'er the flowing- glass 
 From friend to friend would freely pass, 
 
 With fellowship of song- ; 
 It can inspire the dullest clod 
 That ever groveled on the sod, 
 And make him feel himself a king, 
 With fancies floating on the wing, 
 
 Through airy heights along. 
 
 But here I am, a noted foe 
 
 To Bacchus, and the ruddy glow 
 
 Of sparkling wine, which bubbles bright, 
 
 Around the board on Christmas night. 
 
 Yet mem'ries of the olden time 
 
 Will float and mingle in my rhyme, 
 
 Until I feel a dancing train 
 
 Of gleesome fancies in my brain. 
 
 Perhaps your king of table fowl 
 
 Dispelled Time's sable, monkish cowl,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 373 
 
 And let the glow of pleasure glide 
 Around my heart's quiescent tide, 
 Until the years rolled with me back 
 To youth's delightful, festive track, 
 
 And changed me to a boy. 
 Let moralists, in sober sooth, 
 Condemn the primrose path of youth ; 
 I'd rather know I laughed at care 
 With hearthy, boon companions there, 
 
 Than not have known it's joy. 
 
 I'm one amongst the very few 
 Who've seen the good you slyly do ; 
 For, like a thief disguised you steal, 
 Distributing to other's weal. 
 Your generous heart would fain embrace 
 Within its bounds the human race ; 
 You preach a universal creed, 
 And practice it in word and deed, 
 'You'll cling to friends through good and ill, 
 And be their benefactor still. 
 It matters not where'er the clime 
 They first stepped on the stage of time, 
 Or if their skin be black as night, 
 Or olive, or Caucassian white, 
 To you it is the same. 
 The friendly heart and hand are there,
 
 374 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 To deal them out, as free as air, 
 Remembrances of kindness dear, 
 And this is why we all revere 
 
 Your noble, honored name. 
 
 God bless the good old Christmas time, 
 
 I truly pray, in simple rhyme ! 
 
 And bless the kindness which bestowed 
 
 The thoughtful gift on my abode ; 
 
 And bless the day when tables groan 
 
 With plenty, on this changeful zone. 
 
 And may the years, with tardy tread, 
 
 Pass captivating o'er your head. 
 
 And when from hence you're called away, 
 
 May Hope's illuminating ray 
 
 Assist your footsteps to explore 
 
 The pathway to the other shore ; 
 
 But, sure as are the Scripture's just, 
 
 You may go mingle with the dust, 
 
 With heavenly joys in view ; 
 I'll cheerfully submit to Fate, 
 If in that certain, future state, 
 I'll pass the dreadful muster roll, 
 Of Him who'll judge my sinful soul, 
 
 Successfully as you.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 375 
 
 FOOT-BOARD REFLECTIONS. 
 
 'Mid the sweltering- rays of the mid-day sun 
 
 I am here in the cab, while on flying- wheels 
 I must make my long- and my tedious run, 
 
 Ere the lengthened ray of the evening steals 
 Down o'er the track with its cooling shade, 
 
 To soothe the nerves that I oft must strain, 
 And I sig-h as I think of the leafy glade 
 
 Where the rich are bound who are on the train. 
 
 Ah, yes, they are off to their cool retreats, 
 
 To their wealthy homes by the sounding sea, 
 Where their fare consists of the choicest meats, 
 
 With vintage rare as rich wines can be ; 
 Where Fortune deals from her lavish hand 
 
 The luckiest cards within her pack, 
 And woos them along with smiling bland, 
 
 Till the autumn breezes drive them back. 
 
 What wonder at all if I ponder o'er 
 
 The thousand ills of the luckless poor. 
 Who must toil 'mid the smoke and ceaseless roar 
 
 Of the daily load which our frames endure ? 
 And our fare consists of a crust of bread, 
 
 To be moistened oft amid falling tears, 
 Ere we sink to rest on a thorny bed, 
 
 For a few short hours till the dawn appears.
 
 376 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 God pity us all on the road of life, 
 
 We need His help to prolong 1 the fight 
 We are forced to make in the daily strife, 
 
 As we humbly plod on our path of right ; 
 And if by a step we pass its bounds, 
 
 What a cry is raised by the heartless throng, 
 Who unleash their pack of bloodthirsty hounds 
 
 To disjoint our bones for a simple wrong. 
 
 A flowery path o'er life's highway, sure, 
 
 The rich ones find who inherit wealth ; 
 They may glide amid gilded crime secure 
 
 In the sun's bright ray or in midnight stealth ; 
 But the poor man toils like the veriest slave, 
 
 At his daily task, in all sorts of weather, 
 On his lowly road which ends at the grave, 
 
 To keep his body and soul together. 
 
 Sweet hope is unsubstantial food, 
 
 But for it where would we be to-day ? 
 Discouraging thoughts that dare intrude, 
 
 Are by its influence driven away. 
 The crooks and thorns we daily meet 
 
 Along the route we are forced to tread, 
 May lead in a year. to some cool retreat, 
 
 Where we'll lie at ease on a downy bed.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 377 
 
 YOUR OWN NATIVE TOWN. 
 
 From the moment your feet press the earth to 
 
 begin 
 Your rough march to the grave, in this world's 
 
 gTeat din, 
 You will find many stumbling- blocks thrown in 
 
 your way, 
 
 And your armor will often be pierced in the fray. 
 It will take all your skill to avoid the rude shocks 
 
 You will meet on the road against venomous 
 
 rocks, 
 
 But the rudest of all you encounter will frown 
 From the ape-featured crew in your own native 
 
 town. 
 
 You may have in your bosom a heart beating- true 
 With ennoblingintentions, but they '11 misconstrue 
 Every effort you'll make, as you labor for rig-ht, 
 And they'll poison the air worse than vapors of 
 
 night ; 
 
 They will fling their insidious stabs at your back, 
 Just like cowardly assassins,the rancorous pack ; 
 They will scoff and deride you and kick you when 
 
 down 
 With unmerciful ire, in your own darling town. 
 
 If you'll pause and reflect you will easily note 
 How those dear ones can tell ev'ry patch on your 
 coat ;
 
 378 SHANDY MAGUIEE. 
 
 Where the meagre purse presses, how bills are 
 
 unpaid ; 
 How your creditors claim you take profit from 
 
 trade ; 
 How your face, though with honesty stamped, is 
 
 a mask ; 
 
 How your labors of love are a burdensome task ; 
 All the good you've erected will soon be pulled 
 
 down, 
 By the midge-hearted clan, in your own native 
 
 town. 
 
 When you're weighed you're found wanting, 
 
 they'll burden the scales 
 With foul hints, told suspicious, rank, gossiping 
 
 tales. 
 Sure they fancy mankind all have hearts like their 
 
 own, 
 It is thus you are gauged, and your bosom must 
 
 moan. 
 If you clamber above them, and heed what they 
 
 say, 
 
 You will soon be unnerved, and unfit for the fray ; 
 But if brave and determined, by heaven, each 
 
 clown 
 May assail you in vain in your own darling town ! 
 
 If you've tact, and ambition, and brains you can 
 rise
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 379 
 
 From their level with ease, and get nearer the 
 
 skies ; 
 
 If you've nerve for the hattle,a heart for the strife, 
 You will surely succeed on the highway of life ; 
 If you've genius, tho' humble, men mention your 
 
 name, 
 
 And it gives you a pull at the goblet of fame. 
 You will float where your filthy detractors will 
 
 drown, 
 And you'll win some applause in your own native 
 
 town. 
 
 Let the buzzards and owls croak in envious mood, 
 There is joy on the wing as you fly from the brood ; 
 They are powerless to follow, you laugh at the 
 
 fun ; 
 Their attacks are like boys throwing stones at the 
 
 sun. 
 Every man has a mission, fill yours while you 
 
 may, 
 
 And if guided by honor, you'll bask in the ray 
 That will shine in effulgence, and lead to renown, 
 And defeat of your foes in your own native town.
 
 380 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 TO MISS ELLA LEWIS. 
 
 A PASSENGER WHO ASSISTED IN RESCUING AN ENGINEER FROM UNDER 
 His WRECKED ENGINE. 
 
 Were mine the pen to flash the fire 
 
 Of brilliant thoughts these lines along-, 
 Or wake the grand, heroic lyre, 
 
 In strains of rich, melodious song ; 
 I'd sing your noble deeds on high, 
 
 Beyond the reach of fleeting fame, 
 Until my voice would reach the sky, 
 
 To eulogize your laurelled name. 
 
 Oh, lady ! 'tis such acts can shine 
 
 And brighten up this vale of tears, 
 When gentle hands and hearts combine 
 
 To soothe poor suff'ring engineers. 
 We stand the first to meet the crash ; 
 
 Our duty is to save the train, 
 And oft with speed of lightning's flash 
 
 We're crushed, dismember'd, scorched or slain. 
 
 In silken robes, with jewels bright, 
 
 And both your lovely arms bare, 
 You stood beside poor, dying Knight, 
 
 And proved a minist'ring angel there. 
 The fleeting spark of life 3 7 ou fanned, 
 
 Until you felt reviving breath ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRB. 381 
 
 It was your gentle, skillful hand 
 
 That rescued him from painful death. 
 
 Kipe, luscious fruit you kindly send, 
 
 The choicest flowers deck his room, 
 Tho' distant, still you prove his friend, 
 
 And waft around him sweet perfume. 
 The Shelley s and the Nightingales 
 
 Of lasting fame, you'll stand beside, 
 Who can assuage the human wails 
 
 They hear upon life's stormy tide. 
 
 He's lying- now with broken bones, 
 
 And reason gone, within his cot ; 
 Unheard are wife's and children's moans, 
 
 The past, the present, all forgot. 
 If back to Reason's throne once more 
 
 His mind returns and pauses there, 
 From out his brave heart's inmost core, 
 
 He'll bless you with a hero's prayer. 
 
 If death makes all your efforts vain, 
 And ends the life you sought to save, 
 
 The engineer of every train 
 
 Who'll stand above his lowly grave 
 
 Shall testify in grand acclaim, 
 And echo shall prolong the notes,
 
 382 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Till tributes to your honored name 
 Arise from twenty thousand throats ! 
 
 May life be one continued round 
 
 Of joyful scenes, 'mid prospects fair, 
 To you, whose brow is laurel crowned, 
 
 We cry in earnest, heartfelt prayer. 
 And when eternal dawn is nigh, 
 
 As you did here to others do, 
 May He who rules beyond the sky, 
 
 Dear lady, do the same to you. 
 
 NEURALGIA. 
 
 Each vein is full of liquid fire, 
 And every nerve in vengeful ire 
 Keeps bounding with a keen desire 
 
 To kill me quick ; 
 I cannot get a moment's rest ; 
 My very vitals are distrest ; 
 My patience gets a painful test. 
 
 Oh, Lord, I'm sick ! 
 
 If every ill the flesh can feel 
 Combined to make my senses reel, 
 Neuralgia, you are just the chiel 
 To beat them all ;
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 383 
 
 You're thumping- me with mighty blows, 
 You pound me from my head to toes ; 
 The tears now coursing" down my nose 
 Like rivers fall. 
 
 My eyes oft from their sockets start, 
 My teeth seem pulling- all apart, 
 There is a feeling- round my heart 
 
 I can't describe ; 
 
 My curse upon yourself and kin 
 But if at cursing- 1 begin 
 'Twill last till hell I plunge you in, 
 
 And all your tribe. 
 
 TO ALDERMAN BENZ, OSWEjGO, N. Y. 
 
 My dear Alderman Benz, it surprised me to note, 
 How a man of your standing, good judgment 
 
 and tact, 
 Should be found with your fingers clutched into 
 
 the throat 
 
 Of all roads, if the council endorses your act. 
 'Tis a sleepy old gait for an engine to run, 
 And you know in your heart every railroader 
 
 here 
 
 Does the best that he can all those mishaps to shun 
 That are put to the charge of the poor engineer.
 
 384 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 'Twill drive enterprise out of this tax-ridden 
 
 place ; 
 
 And we ha ven'ta surplus to boast of you, know ; 
 In the summer time grass on our streets you can 
 
 trace, 
 And in winter huge hummocks of unsullied 
 
 snow. 
 
 Manufacturers never were lured by the bait 
 Of "our splendid location for business," be 
 cause 
 
 On account of high taxes they will not locate, 
 And, besides, they've a dread of our iron- 
 bound laws. 
 
 When the Welland canal was enlarged we sup 
 posed 
 That big fleets from the west at our wharves 
 
 would be seen ; 
 
 But, alas ! from that time until now we reposed 
 Undisturbed by increase of our merchant ma 
 rine. 
 Elevators are sinking- to speedy decay, 
 
 Where the rats and the sparrows their timbers 
 
 devour ; 
 
 Soon the railroads will go just the very same way, 
 If 3^011 limit our speed down to four miles an 
 hour. 
 
 Samuel Sloan, with his well equipped roads, has 
 done more
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 385 
 
 For Oswego than all the canals in the land ; 
 Go with Corporal Phelps down about the lake 
 shore, 
 
 Where he'll point to the proof with his figures 
 
 in hand ; 
 
 Ever} 7 month as the paymaster goes on his trip, 
 'Tis United States coin which his wallet contains; 
 It will purchase more flour and potatoes than 
 scrip 
 
 For the men who must toil with their sinews 
 and brains. 
 
 Now reflect on the foregoing facts which I give 
 To you here in this paper in shape of a song ; 
 Let us foster the railroads and help them to live, 
 Which they will, if with prudence we help them 
 
 along. 
 
 As a city official you've always been found 
 On the side where you wielded good sensible 
 
 power ; 
 
 Do not mar your past record by girding us 'round 
 With a mud turtle movement of four miles an 
 - hour. 
 
 25
 
 386 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 DOUBTS AND TRUTHS. 
 
 Off to church I went last Sunday 
 
 In a rather gloomy mood, 
 I am not a firm believer, 
 
 And I seldom there intrude, 
 Yet I like to hear a sermon 
 
 Where impassioned words do play 
 In an eloquent connection, 
 
 Be the subject what it may. 
 But the speaker, to affect me, 
 
 Must be pious and sincere, 
 And stand forth a true example 
 
 Of the words which strike my ear; 
 For I look behind the subject, 
 
 And I closely view the man, 
 As I'm doing- here at present. 
 
 This is how the sermon ran : 
 "From the mountains and the valleys, 
 
 From the deserts, and each plain, 
 From the seas, the lakes and oceans, 
 
 There shall march a countless train, 
 ( From the birth of time they'll rally 
 
 To the trumpet's clarion call, 
 As it thunders o'er the world : 
 
 'Come to judgment one and all.' 
 How the guilty wretch shall totter
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 387 
 
 In the deepest of dismay ! " 
 It was thus a theologian 
 
 Preached so eloquent that day, 
 And I thought as he expounded 
 
 Texts of Scripture so devout 
 He is sure to be an angel 
 
 When the dead shall get the rout, 
 And to glory everlasting 
 
 He can see his title clear ; 
 If he can, dear sinful reader, 
 
 You and I need never fear. 
 I have heard of reverend ranters 
 
 Who could point us out the road, 
 Where the gauge is rather narrow 
 
 Leading to that blest abode. 
 Ah ! how fluently they tell us 
 
 Of the joys beyond the grave 
 And what sacrifices daily 
 
 We should make, our souls to save ; 
 But when Death would hover near them 
 
 Some physician would be called, 
 To exert his skill and save them, 
 
 As they'd writhe in fear appalled ; 
 How they dread to go to glory 
 
 That they've preached about for years, 
 And they die like craven cowards, 
 
 'Tis not so with engineers.
 
 388 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 There are hundreds of exceptions 
 
 To that class of hair-brained fools, 
 Who are pious theologians, 
 
 Who were taught in lib'ral schools ; 
 And they lead their congregations 
 
 Up Mount Pisgahs of the earth, 
 'Till the glorious Land of Promise 
 
 Dawns in full, celestial birth ! 
 To no sect nor creed they're wedded, 
 
 To no dogmas bound in chains ; 
 But upon broad Christian tenets 
 
 They employ prolific brains ; 
 I respect them, they are sages, 
 
 And I'll follow where they tread : 
 All my caustic written notions 
 
 Have been pointed at each head 
 Of the hypocritic swaddlers, 
 
 Who enjoy this life below, 
 And keep preaching of the future 
 
 Where they ne'er expect to go. 
 If to live in full and plenty, 
 
 And to sleep on beds of down, 
 Is the trunk-line up to Heaven 
 
 They are sure of glory's crown. 
 If to toil with brain and sinew 
 
 'Till the heart-strings nearly crack, 
 Running daily on an engine,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 389 
 
 Over old and worn-out track ; 
 When the driving-springs are flattened, 
 
 And the pistons blowing- strong 1 , 
 And the flues are leaking- badly, 
 
 And the valves are beating- wrong, 
 And the pumps are out of order, 
 
 And the boxes full of smoke, 
 And the rods all thumping loudly, 
 
 Every time she makes a stroke 
 If such things torment us daily 
 
 While on earth in grief we dwell, 
 I have hopes, dear, patient reader, 
 
 That we'll not be switched for hell. 
 
 In the foremost ranks of danger, 
 
 We are daily forced to tread ; 
 And our firemen stand beside us, 
 
 As we battle for our bread ; 
 We ne'er shirk the post of duty, 
 
 Altho' Death keeps closely by, 
 For, full conscious of our peril, 
 
 We can resolutely die. 
 I disclaim all idle boasting 
 
 We have heros in the tomb, 
 Whom the public know were martyrs, 
 
 Ere their youth had lost its bloom. 
 Show me 'mone-st the ranks of labor
 
 390 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Such a roll-call of the brave, 
 As the engineers and firemen 
 Who sleep in the hero's grave ! 
 
 Hark ! I hear the "caller " coming 
 And the crimson streaks of day, 
 
 Shooting- up athwart the heavens, 
 Tell 'tis time to g-o away. 
 
 TO THE REV. F. H. BECK. 
 
 WRITTEN AFTER READING HIS POEM ox THE " BOOK AGENT." 
 
 Reverend Sir : 
 
 'Twill surprise you these lines to peruse, 
 
 Which I wrote after reading- the song- of your 
 
 Muse. 
 What a tormenting- time the book agent should 
 
 come, 
 
 As you studied your sermon alone in your room. 
 Oh ! I thought : were I there in that clergyman's 
 
 place 
 I would hammer some texts on the book agent's 
 
 face, 
 
 Which the public could read for the good of man 
 kind 
 
 From the "Last Publication," more fierce than 
 refined .
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 391 
 
 Take the man who has patience sufficient to hear 
 A giib canvasser's tongue, as it wags at his ear. 
 He may truly lay claim to salvation and. say, 
 "Sure the Lord in His mercy has tried me to-day ; 
 For He sent me a tempter like Satan of yore, 
 In the guise of a man with a plentiful store 
 Of persuasion, and. I kept my patience secure 
 'Till "I bowed out" the tempter away from my 
 door." 
 
 Well, the "he-ones" are had when they come 
 
 with their books, 
 
 But the "she-devil's" worse with her man-kill 
 ing looks, 
 With her smirks and her smiles, and her artful 
 
 complaints ; 
 And a tale made to draw forth compassion from 
 
 saints, 
 With her wiles stealing 'round, sweet as May- 
 
 mprning dew, 
 Or those spice gales that blow in the vales of 
 
 Peru; 
 
 It is then you require a "John Sullivan " blow 
 That shall drive her away with a thundering 
 
 "No!" 
 
 There are many things "tucked by translators" 
 
 in creeds, 
 But the man who can list to a book agent's needs
 
 392 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 For an hour, and not kick him out into the street, 
 Is a canonized saint from his head to his feet ; 
 Oh, I hope you are such, and I love to peruse 
 Every flash from the pen of your eloquent Muse. 
 And I hope you will not deem my freedom a 
 
 crime, 
 When I greet you, dear sir, as a brother in rhyme. 
 
 A SONG FOR THE BOYS. 
 
 I'm afflicted with ills of the flesh, boys, 
 
 And I'll share my misfortune with you ; 
 They are stripes from humanity's lash, boys, 
 
 Only shunned by the virtuous few. 
 Saints are scarce on the railroad to-day, boys, 
 
 From the president down to the chap 
 Who is flagging- for very poor pay, boys, 
 
 With his hair sticking- out through his cap. 
 
 I've a rheumatic twing-e in my toes, boys, 
 
 And a kink in the small of my back ; 
 They are sure to disturb my repose, boys, 
 
 When in bed or when out on the track. 
 I have feasted on quail and on toast, boys, 
 
 From my grub-bucket daily for years ; 
 Sure I don't know of men who can boast, boys, 
 
 Of such feeding unless engineers.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 393 
 
 Our conductors have napkins and rings, boys, 
 
 Silver knives, forks and spoons, and choice 
 
 plate ; 
 Sure we scoff at such fanciful things, boys, 
 
 As we dine on our engines in state. 
 With our fingers and thumbs we can throw, boys, 
 
 A square meal down our throats pretty quick, 
 It was thus Adam feasted, you know, boys, 
 
 Before Eve made a "mash" on old Nick. 
 
 Of high living I'd have you keep clear, boys, 
 
 It is loaded with numerous ills ; 
 And besides, shun the schooner of beer, boys, 
 
 Yes, and worm-juice flowing through stills. 
 They are stumbling blocks spread for your feet, 
 boys, 
 
 Like the smiles of a widow through tears, 
 Every one of them full of deceit, boys, 
 
 And a trap to catch poor engineers. 
 
 I intended a moral to write, boys, 
 
 'Till the widows ran into my head, 
 So I think I'll set brakes for to-night, boys, 
 
 And retire to my virtuous bed. 
 Ere the morrow's bright sun shall arise, boys, 
 
 I must up and have at it again, 
 For, no matter how stormy the skies, boys, 
 
 I'll be called to depart with my train.
 
 394 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 WRITTEN UNDERA PHOTOGRAPHIC GROUP. 
 Ye Gods ! behold this handsome crowd 
 So self-conceited, vain and proud, 
 Who pose before the artist's eye 
 Beneath a gray, October sky I 
 They're frizzed, and combed, in Sunday style, 
 While some men frown and others smile. 
 But Nagle's photographic art 
 Shall beauty to each face impart. 
 
 He tries to get them in repose, 
 He twists each chin, surveys each nose, 
 Until he has the " awkward squad " 
 All grouped upon the verdant sod. 
 And, now, as each one looks so grand, 
 When polished by some barber's hand, 
 I'll take a pencil picture, too, 
 Of ev'ry face I see in view. 
 
 See Rowan, on the left who sits, 
 
 To flank the crowd of sports and wits, 
 
 And at his side I plainly trace 
 
 The handsome phiz of Patrick Grace. 
 
 See honest Paddy sitting" there 
 
 With grizzled beard and unkempt hair. 
 
 The next is P. F. Johnson's form, 
 
 Whom all admire with feelings warm.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 395 
 
 Bob Gettings, from the barber's hand, 
 Looks sleek, and smooth, with features bland, 
 And at his side the piercing- eye 
 Of Dennis Connelly I spy. 
 " Judge " Glynn behold, he sits at ease, 
 The artist's glance he's sure to please. 
 See Crawford, self-possessed and proud, 
 The valiant "jumbo " of the crowd. 
 
 Sweet William Grant your head hold down, 
 
 Do not on old companions frown. 
 
 Brave Gill, who never missed a fight 
 
 In Union wars, is on your right. 
 
 Note Tim McCarthy in life's prime 
 
 Near Fennell, author of this rhyme. 
 
 See Dorsey, too, the ladies' joy, 
 
 A good, straight-forward, handsome boy. 
 
 Behold Omelia standing there, 
 
 Behind Commiss'ner Grace's chair. 
 
 See Hanley from the Second ward 
 
 Whose head with good sound sense is stored. 
 
 There's Chris, an angel in disguise, 
 
 Whose look expresses pain'd surprise. 
 
 Jack Sculley's last, he bears his weight 
 
 On Grant, which makes him stand so straight.
 
 56 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Well, here we are, and seventeen 
 
 More jovial lads were seldom seen ; 
 
 All cast in Nature's stalwart mold, 
 
 And prized for strength far more than gold. 
 
 Upon the rugged road of life 
 
 We win our bread, 'mid toil and strife, 
 
 And thankful all for robust health, 
 
 Which is our only source of wealth. 
 
 Perhaps my boys, in after years, 
 
 When Time shall change our smiles to tears, 
 
 When we'll be wrinkled, old and gray, 
 
 These pictures shall recall the day 
 
 We met, in manhood's strength and pride, 
 
 With joke and jest, on ev'ry side, 
 
 To let the artist group us all, 
 
 Outside Oswego's City Hall. 
 
 SOME TRUTH IN RHYME. 
 
 While perusing the papers last evening, I read 
 Of a deeply laid plan to deprive men of bread ; 
 'Tis ingenious indeed, I must freely confess, 
 And may make by perversion a deal of distress 
 'Mongst the ranks of the toilers all over the land ; 
 If their tongues run unguarded, their doom is at 
 hand.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 397 
 
 I supposed that by blacklisting- those who rebel, 
 Was a torture on earth to prepare men for hell. 
 
 More refined in their cruelty daily they grow ; 
 With their scorpion whips they afflict men with 
 
 woe, 
 
 In the shape of detectives to follow them round, 
 So their masters may know where disturbers are 
 
 found. 
 In the lodge room they'll mingle and talk with 
 
 the boys, 
 
 And by oily persuasion enlarge on those joys 
 To be had for the seeking, beyond their desires ; 
 Then betray them like erstwhile the Mollie 
 
 Maguires. 
 
 If such tactics increase with the growth of the 
 
 years, 
 
 Sure the Lord only knows what we poor engineers 
 Must all do for a living ; I fear we will starve, 
 If a plan can't be found airy nothings to carve ! 
 And a dish of wind-pudding contrived from our 
 
 breath, 
 To protect us from hunger and save us from 
 
 death. 
 
 Oh ! if such is discovered we'll chorus in glee 
 Without fear of starvation, for water is free !
 
 398 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Listen, boys ; I've an antidote here for your ills, 
 You will find it far safer than powder or pills : 
 Keep your tongues in your cheeks, do not dare let 
 
 them wag ; 
 
 Should that fail, in each mouth stuff a close-fitting- 
 gag-; 
 
 If you do, you'll have nothing- to fear boys,because 
 There's no danger at all from our rules or our 
 
 laws, 
 
 Unless grossly perverted by those who'd destroy 
 The best organization in railroad employ. 
 
 We shall always be faithful to men whom we 
 
 serve, 
 
 From the strict line of duty we never shall swerve, 
 We are true to their interests, give them our lives, 
 Never thinking of dear ones, our children and 
 
 wives. 
 When the martyrs to duty are called from the 
 
 grave, 
 
 Engineers will be first in the ranks of the brave, 
 With their firemen beside them they'll march to 
 
 the fore, 
 Where eternal reward will be theirs evermore.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 399 
 
 THREE TOASTS. 
 
 Come, my boys, the decanter fill full till we drink 
 A few toasts here to-night, let our hearts never 
 
 sink, 
 
 For in wine there is pleasure, let lunatics bawl 
 About poison therein, to the de'il with them all. 
 Every man fill his glass till the beads bubble o'er, 
 We will drink it to-night, and we drank it before. 
 Get youready,clasps hands with a hearty hurrah. 
 Now the toast ! " Here's success to you Erin-go- 
 Bragh ! " 
 
 They are drained ! Let us fill them to flowing 
 again, 
 
 Till we pledge in full bumpers the brave-hearted 
 
 men 
 
 Who defy every dungeon, the scaffold, and block, 
 And can fight for her freedom, with hearts like 
 
 the rock. 
 
 Who are trying to burst every link of the chain 
 That is bin ding her limbs and is causing her pain. 
 Now the toast ! drink it standing, the chorus shall 
 
 swell 
 Here's to all who are with you, dear leader, Par- 
 
 nell! 
 
 Fill once more while we're sober, although 'tis 
 
 the last 
 Till again we assemble to talk of the past ;
 
 400 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 And to plan for the future, as true men should do, 
 Who've a countay to wrench from a despotic 
 
 crew. 
 
 See ! the sun is just rising far off in the east, 
 He will soon shed his beams on our wine-drinking 
 
 feast ; 
 
 Now,my boys, stand in order,drink freely to those 
 Who will never give up till we conquer our foes. 
 
 DUTY'S CALL. 
 
 RAILROADING ON THE B. U. L. 
 
 "Wake up from sleep" the caller said, 
 I quickly bounded out of bed, 
 A stupid feeling in my head, 
 
 When roused in such a fury ; 
 I thought I scarcely closed my eyes, 
 He routed me in such surprise. 
 I'll curse him till the day he dies, 
 
 In spite of judge or jury. 
 
 Three hundred miles my aching back 
 Was bounded o'er uneven track; 
 My stiffened joints were fit to crack, 
 From such a constant motion. 
 I suffered more than tongue can tell,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 401 
 
 Far worse than imps confined in well 
 We rolled about in every swell, 
 Like ships upon the ocean. 
 
 My brothers, in a 'sunny clime, 
 
 Who read this simple, truthful rhyme, 
 
 You little know the awful time 
 
 We have in frosty weather ; 
 We blow our fingers and our thumbs 
 To keep them warm, we dine on crumbs, 
 Or grub dished up in boarding- slums, 
 
 Where dozens hive together. 
 
 In drifts of snow we nearly freeze, 
 Exposed to ev'ry cutting breeze ; 
 The glass tells twenty-five degrees 
 
 Below what men call "zero." 
 Our noses have a hazy hue 
 A most repulsive looking blue 
 Besides, our whole official crew, 
 
 Have hearts as hard as Nero. 
 
 They drive us out when needing sleep, 
 A harvest for themselves to reap ; 
 Because they get our labor cheap, 
 And pay in scrip quite often. 
 The rails are only half way tied, 
 
 26
 
 402 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 The joints apart are opened wide, 
 'Tis certain death for men to ride 
 
 When Spring 1 embankments soften. 
 
 My heart would bound with honest joy, 
 If I could find some good employ, 
 Where callers never would annoy 
 
 A man from night till morning- ; 
 And where no snow-drifts would be seen, 
 Where fields would wear perennial green, 
 And skies would always look serene, 
 
 Our lives in joy adorning-. 
 
 Perhaps good luck I yet may meet, 
 And get away from snow and sleet, 
 To some choice clime where tranquil heat 
 
 To railroad men is given ; 
 The only place I'm sure to find 
 A climate, suited to my mind, 
 Where evermore I'll feel resigned, 
 
 Is up with God in Heaven.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 403 
 
 TO KITTIE BLAINE. 
 
 Miss(?) Kittle Elaine perhaps the "Miss" 
 
 Is not the proper thing- to write, 
 Yet, in a dream of perfect bliss, 
 
 I'll fancy you a maid to-night 
 Your lines upon the engineer 
 Are truthful, musical, sincere, 
 And I, an humble rhyming chap, 
 Now doff to you my greasy cap, 
 In heartfelt thanks for such a song 
 As you so kindly sent along, 
 To cheer us up, and drive despair 
 Away from hearts consumed by care. 
 We've all been cooped in cabs for years, 
 Like hens, when house- wives have their fears 
 That neighbor's stones may thin the brood 
 Of scratching thieves, when seeking food. 
 In summer, winter, spring and fall, 
 We must respond to duty's call. 
 We're blanched and beaten by the blast, 
 Our blooming cheeks are fading fast, 
 We're friendless, save yourself, I find 
 Your sex are silent or unkind ; 
 They never send a word along 
 To cheer us up, much less a song. 
 But now we will enthrone'you queen
 
 404 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Of all the boys throughout the land. 
 Where e'er a smoky phiz is seen 
 A heart is there at your command . 
 
 If my rheumatic harp could sing- 
 Such music as your gifted lyre, 
 I'd make the hills and valleys ring 
 
 Our thanks in true, poetic fire. 
 In numbers we're an army now, 
 With hero stamped on every brow. 
 For you have proved it in your song, 
 And, madam, you have told no wrong ; 
 Indeed we know you were sincere 
 When writing on the engineer. 
 Suppose we enter partnership, 
 And cruise upon a rhyming trip ; 
 I'll pass the work rough-hewn to you, 
 Your dainty fingers soon can do 
 The pruning, trimming, weeding out, 
 Of vulgar words I strew about ; 
 I'll tell you of our daily joys 
 The pleasures surfeiting the boys 
 The grandeur of the scenes we pass, 
 Until they seem a moving mass, 
 Parading "for our special sight, 
 On cloudless day and fogless night. 
 Then you can weave a, song-boquet,
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 405 
 
 And sing 1 it to the brothers all ; 
 While I can bask in beauty?s ray, 
 A willing- slave who loves the thrall ! 
 
 Please give me your attention now, 
 Sweet song-stress! and don't think me rude, 
 
 Nor cloud your genius-crested brow, 
 If I offensively intrude 
 
 By making some inquiries, so 
 
 I'll ascertain how far to go 
 
 In my expressions as I rhyme 
 
 The thanks of men you've sung sublime. 
 
 Now, tell oh, dear ! I'm so afraid 
 
 Please mention if you are a maid ? 
 
 If so, by mig-hty Jove ! I swear, 
 
 You're launched on life with prospects fair, 
 
 And soon shall find a dear one, true, 
 
 Who'll more than brother be to you ; 
 
 Who'll press on your melodious lips 
 
 Delights that other joys eclipse. 
 
 Perhaps you are a faithful wife, 
 
 And coupled up to one for life, 
 
 Who, like myself, toils ev'ry day 
 
 For pleasure, disregarding- pay ; 
 
 If so you are a happy spouse, 
 
 And mistress of some cozy house. 
 
 If you a blooming- widow be
 
 406 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 My stars ! How impudent of me, 
 To sneak Paul Prying-, but, if so, 
 I do respect your weeds and woe ! 
 For widows who've been sore distrest 
 I have a soft spot 'neath my vest ! 
 Some dear departed boys I've laid 
 Beneath the sod, and often prayed 
 With all their poor heart-broken wives, 
 For God to guard their lonely lives. 
 Some other chaps have done the same, 
 Successful too ! and " blocked my game ! " 
 But be you widow, wife, or maid, 
 In blooming- youth, or near the shade 
 Of ripened years, where art must hide 
 The buffets met on life's rough tide, 
 I thank you truly and 1 know 
 
 My brothers of the foot-board here, 
 Express the same, with hearts aglow, 
 
 For praising up the engineer. 
 
 SABBATH MUSINGS. 
 
 There's a rhyming fit upon me, and its prompt 
 ings I obey, 
 
 In a crude, unmeasured jingle, on this holy Sab 
 bath day, 
 
 As the bells for church are chiming, and I'll note 
 some passers by
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 407 
 
 And describe them in my stanzas, as familiar ones 
 I spy. 
 
 Here comes Eggleston in meekness, with a hymn 
 
 hook in his hand, 
 And heside him strides an angel hy the name of 
 
 L. O. Rand ; 
 They're a pious pair of play-boys as e'er punched 
 
 a duplex true, 
 Dressed in Sunday-go-to-meetings, for a snooze 
 
 within the pew. 
 
 Dan is something 1 of an angler, he can " whip a 
 
 stream " in style, 
 He entices fish from water with a sanctimonious 
 
 smile. 
 
 In a piscatorial manner he enlarges on his luck, 
 And regrets the loss of monsters that escape from 
 
 off his hook. 
 
 Rand is quite a different fellow, one who never 
 
 tells a lie, 
 But keeps plodding upward surely to a mansion 
 
 in the sky, 
 Charlie Fisk says Rand will get there if St. Peter's 
 
 at the door, 
 When he hears him tell a story, he will punch his 
 
 ticket sure.
 
 408 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 Well, my own opinion, truly, of this trio it is 
 
 this : 
 If they ever enter heaven to reside in homes of 
 
 bliss 
 They'll deceive the Chief Conductor,all who know 
 
 them will agree, 
 And, besides, dear sinful reader, there's a chance 
 
 for you and me. 
 
 But the bells have ceased their tolling-. I must 
 hie me with the throng-, 
 
 I regret to close abruptly this discordant, truth 
 ful song-, 
 
 Yet, upon some near occasion I will make a little 
 noise, 
 
 Telling- all the Monthly's readers what I know 
 about the boys. 
 
 THE WINTER WINDS WHISTLE. 
 The winter winds whistle, 
 
 The skies frown in wrath, 
 Misfortune seems driving- 
 
 On merciless path. 
 
 The snowdrifts are piling- 
 On mountain and moor, 
 
 A sig-ht which is dreadful 
 To those who are poor.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIKE. 409 
 
 There's joy for the wealthy, 
 
 Whose clothing- is warm 
 When Boreas is reigning 1 , 
 
 The king of the storm. 
 
 But we who are fighting 
 
 For bread which we eat, 
 Must suffer fresh torments 
 
 And luckless defeat. 
 
 Each day brings its sorrow, 
 
 And night brings no rest, 
 Nor hope for the morrow, 
 
 When thus we're oppressed. 
 
 Yet, Hope is a siren, 
 
 She woos us along 
 With coaxing delusive, 
 
 And false, fickle song 1 . 
 
 Obscured is the future, 
 
 'Tis dark to our view, 
 But onward we're driven 
 
 The path to pursue. 
 
 Perhaps the bright portals 
 
 Of fortune shall ope 
 Ah ! down you deluder, 
 
 That wish sprung from hope.
 
 410 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 
 
 "COPY." 
 
 Dear reader, perhaps you have threaded 
 
 The verg-e of old Satan's domain ; 
 Or may be at times you've been wedded, 
 
 To imps which have marched in his train, 
 Or suffered in torture and trouble, 
 
 When bumpers of grief bubbled o'er, 
 If uo, all your ills were a bubble, 
 
 Compared with my sorrowful store. 
 
 I am now "in the hands of my printer," 
 
 And " copy " he cries, with a growl 
 Which sounds like old Boreas in winter, 
 
 When forth full of veng-eance he'll howl. 
 'Tis "copy " both night, noon, and morning 1 , 
 
 The rascal repeatedly dins ; 
 I'd torture the wretch without warning-, 
 
 If he were absolved from his sins. 
 
 If dull and insipid I'm feeling 1 , 
 
 No mercy he shows me at all ; 
 But all of my senses go reeling 
 
 When lustily for " copy " he'll bawl. 
 I scream in the direst distraction, 
 
 And wander to places alone, 
 Where, free from his prying- detection, 
 
 In ang-uish I ruefully moan.
 
 SHANDY MAGUIRE. 411 
 
 When whips are cracked tirelessly o'er us, 
 
 The brain will scarce ever reply ; 
 'Tis seldom we sing 1 in free chorus, 
 
 When made by such means to comply ; 
 But if we've no fear of a master, 
 
 The Muse will delight on the wing 1 , 
 And " copy " will surely flow faster, 
 
 When thus full of freedom we sing-.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 A Member of One-Fifty-Two 11 
 
 A Reply to Mollie Bawn 28 
 
 A Reply to Salsie 16 
 
 A Welcome to the Household Visitor 30 
 
 A "Welcome to the Journal 32 
 
 A Prayer 34 
 
 A Trip in Charon's Ferry 49 
 
 A Cold Water Lyric 53 
 
 A Pen Picture 66 
 
 Air Castles 123 
 
 A Reply to a Request 131 
 
 A Vision of the Night 204 
 
 A Happy New Year 260 
 
 A Trip in Dreamland 344 
 
 An Album Rhyme 72 
 
 An Epistle to a Friend 278 
 
 At the Grave of an Infant 302 
 
 A "Wedding Present J. T. K 307 
 
 Away with your Flimsy Romances 314 
 
 A Negative Vote on the Woman's Department 355 
 
 An Epistle to a Friend 361 
 
 A Song for the Boys , 392 
 
 Baby's Welcome . 134 
 
 Blighted Hopes 181 
 
 Bury the Past 191 
 
 Come, Boys, Fill Your Glasses 366 
 
 Christmas 114 
 
 Come Nestle up Closely, My Darling 180 
 
 Church Musings.., . 211
 
 CONTENTS. ii 
 
 Come, My Love, with Raven Tresses 259 
 
 Come, Fill up your Glass to O'erflowing 319 
 
 Christmas Eve in Camp 340 
 
 " Copy " 410 
 
 Declining Aldennanic Honors 38 
 
 Death Levels All 78 
 
 Dedication Lines, Div. 18 280 
 
 Doctor L. Reynolds 327 
 
 Doubts and Truths 386 
 
 Duty's Call 400 
 
 Evening Chimes 243 
 
 Exit Seventy-F^our 56 
 
 Eighty-Three, Farewell 255 
 
 Father Mathew Temperance Society 149 
 
 Foot-Board Reflections 375 
 
 Hope, the Deceiver 136 
 
 It is Better to Sing 283 
 
 In Memoriam, Phillip Doyle 36 
 
 In Memoriam, J. A. McCarthy 238 
 
 I Cannot Sing To-night, Love 186 
 
 I have Roughed it Along 359 
 
 Kittie, Dear 107 
 
 Loss of the Schooner Jenkins 70 
 
 Little Brown Eyes 323 
 
 Lake Michigan 94 
 
 Loss of the Schooner Persian 145 
 
 Lines at the Request of a Widowed Friend 173 
 
 Memories of Youth , 9 
 
 More Trouble. . . 82
 
 ill CONTENTS. 
 
 My Castle in Spain 120 
 
 Mollies "Wooing 125 
 
 Miners' "Wages Advanced 247 
 
 My Fireman 276 
 
 Moonlight Fancies 290 
 
 Nudis Yerbis 266 
 
 Neuralgia 382 
 
 '' No Smoking on Duty " 363 
 
 Our Letter Carriers 92 
 
 " Only A Tramp " 158 
 
 Organization of Div. 167, 0. K. C 351 
 
 Out of the Shop 188 
 
 Prosperity's Pet 197 
 
 Pour Out a Goodly Cup of Cheer 241 
 
 " Patience " 47 
 
 Pleasure and Pastime 115 
 
 Keflections on Life 192 
 
 Retrospection 227 
 
 Show Mercy to the Erring 129 
 
 Sit You Down at My Side 236 
 
 Some Truth in Rhyme 396 
 
 Sabbath Musings 406 
 
 To the Local Editor, Morning Herald 15 
 
 The Dying Peasant 19 
 
 To the Members of the B. of L. E 24 
 
 To the Author of " Old Tar's Twisters " 26 
 
 To Angeline S 40 
 
 To "W. B. Phelps 42 
 
 To Mike of Garryowen 44 
 
 The Good Time Coming 60 
 
 To P. M. Arthur , , 63
 
 CONTENTS. iv 
 
 To Doctor L. Reynolds 75 
 
 The Freaks of Fortune 86 
 
 The Coming of Spring 95 
 
 To An Importunate Contributor 96 
 
 To R. F. Leffin 101 
 
 The Clergy on Hell 104 
 
 The Clam Bake 108 
 
 To " Handy Andy " 250 
 
 To My Blackthorn Canes 264 
 
 The Exiles 270 
 
 Two Pictures 271 
 
 To the Members Ladies' Aid Society, Burlington, Iowa. . 284 
 
 The River St. Lawrence 287 
 
 The Exile's Return, 292 
 
 Trials and Tribulations 298 
 
 To the Members of Div. 136, Evanston, "Wyoming 303 
 
 To A Friend 311 
 
 To A Reporter 316 
 
 To J. D. Hammond 320 
 
 To " Handy Andy " 325 
 
 To Grand Chaplain Everett 336 
 
 To Miss Emma Avery 126 
 
 To the Robin Red-breast 138 
 
 To Mrs. E. M. Hooker 139 
 
 To " Mobilian " 148 
 
 To the Author of " Sunday Labor " 153 
 
 To Doctor Reynolds 160 
 
 The Rhymer to his Pen 162 
 
 To the Centennial Committee 165 
 
 To Madam Rebecca 169 
 
 To C. B. Benson 220 
 
 To Miss Ella Lewis 380 
 
 To Alderman Benz 383 
 
 The Battle of the Clan* 230 
 
 The Homeward Bound 215 
 
 The Hats Our Father's Wore 357 
 
 The First Gray Hair 368
 
 V CONTENTS. 
 
 Thanks for a Christmas Turkey 371 
 
 The Joys of Labor 176 
 
 Time's Yisit 199 
 
 To the Eev. F. H. Beck 390 
 
 Three Toasts 399 
 
 To Kittie Elaine 403 
 
 The Winter Winds Whistle 408 
 
 Union Meeting, Kochester, 1ST. Y 233 
 
 Union Meeting, Bangor, Me 330 
 
 Winsome Jennie 333 
 
 Where do the Wicked Sleep ? 156 
 
 Written Under a Photographic Group 394 
 
 You are all that My Fancy can wish for, My Dear 254 
 
 Your Own Native Town 377
 
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