Classic Poem

As Yankee legends tell, in days of yore,
Ere liberty had bless'd our happy states,
An Irishman, who long had been quite weary
Of cold potatoes and bog meadows dreary,
Impell'd, no doubt, by hope of kinder fates,
His native country left for wild New England's shore.
Upon the coast where Patrick came
An ancient maiden happen'd to reside,
Who might be call'd a very worthy dame,
And own'd some lands near Narragansett's tide.
For her our Pat conceived a predilection,
(Or for her lands,)
And as she had no serious objection,
To wedlock's bands,
A parson therefore came, by Pat's direction,
And join'd their hands.
Then to the church next sabbath fair
This happy couple did repair
To see the folks, make complimentary speeches,
" And hear, " said Pat, " how well the parson preaches. "
The parson chose the following text, —
" He that hath pity on the poor
Doth lend his substance to the Lord,
And from his never-failing store.
In this world shall have rich reward,
And endless glory in the next. "
The preacher then, with eloquence, confess'd
That ministers were those the text referr'd to,
(Meaning of course himself among the rest,)
For they were always poor; and he averr'd too,
That they who gave to him should ne'er be sorry,
For God would grant them riches here, and endless glory
Pat was well pleased to think that he could gain
Rewards on earth, as well as future life,
And thus returning home, in merry strain,
Address'd his wife:
" My dearest spouse,
We very soon
Shall have a clever mess of cows
Instead of one:
For the parson, you know, is a very good man,
And he put me in mind of an excellent plan:
I will drive him my cow, dear, and then, do you see,
A whole drove of cows will the Lord give to me. "
His wife replied, with heartfelt sorrow,
That then their milk they'd have to borrow;
And this would really be doleful,
Since night and morn he ate a bowl full:
Besides, she said, that unless they grew richer,
They hardly could afford to buy a pitcher.
But Pat consoled his charming bride,
And, full of confidence, replied —
That they should soon have milk in plenty,
When, 'stead of one cow, they had twenty.
He drove his cow and gave her to the priest,
Who gratefully his thanks express'd,
Then turned her in a field of blooming clover,
Which all his cattle then were grazing over.
Patrick returned, with bosom light
And hopes raised high;
Although his wife heaved many a sigh;
But round his house, the following night,
A noise was heard.
" My dear, " said Pat, " you now will trust my word;
I told you that our cow would shortly come, "
Then rose and found her.
It seems, uneasy when confined from home,
She jumped the fence, at liberty to roam,
And several oxen following, stood around her.
" I thank the Lord, " said Pat;
" And, though they're oxen, I will not refuse them;
But see, my dear, they are so very fat,
I cannot use them. "
His wife exclaims, " Pray, how then will you work it? "
" I'll tell you, honey;
I'll drive them down to Providence to market,
And get the money. "
So merrily, without delay,
Along the road he sped his way.
The priest next morning oped his eyes
At early dawn,
And shortly found, with much surprise,
His oxen gone.
He traced their steps along the road,
And found the cow at Pat's abode.
When Pat return'd, our minister,
With visage long,
(And feelings doubtless somewhat sinister,)
Told him, 'twas wrong
To drive his oxen off without permission;
And that unless he rendered satisfaction.
His soul would be in danger of perdition,
For such an action.
But Pat, with confidence and reverence due,
These words retorted:
" Sir, you asserted
That they who gave to priests would be rewarded,
And go to heaven.
Your sermon, sir, was doubtless very true;
And now, sir, if your text has been regarded,
And these fine oxen God to me has given,
What's that to you? "
The priest denied that this was what he meant,
The last Lord's day;
Declaring that the oxen were not sent ,
But ran away .
" To come to case in hand, Pat, you must settle,
And pay me well for driving off my cattle.
But, seeing lawsuits are a great vexation,
We'll settle it by friendly arbitration.
So, Patrick, you may choose the men
To hear the question and decide it;
Whate'er be their decision then,
You must abide it. "
" I thank you, sir, " said Pat, " and since 'tis fair,
That honest men should judge a case so rare;
And since you do not wish to make a bustle, sir,
About the place,
I think that I will choose the twelve apostles, sir,
To judge the case. "
" The twelve apostles! — Patrick! — they
Can never hear us till the judgment day! "
" Why that, " says Pat,
" Is just the very time and place I pitch'd upon.
They'll then determine
Exactly what you meant and what you preach'd upon
In your last sermon."