 |
| sedan chair |
 |
| cudgel players |
 |
| bluecoat scholar (charity) |
 |
| lace lappet |
[clings to her... cloudhued pittycoat as child] [♬♬♬]
[Caoch O'Leary]
[wararrow went round]
[♬ a nation wants a gaze]
FDV: "This on a slip of blue paper headed by a woodcut soon fluttered to the rose of the winds from lane to lattice and from mouth to ear, throughout the land of Ireland,"
4DV: "massgoing ladies in their chairs and a few old souls obviously under the spell of liquor. Word went round and the ballad printed on a strip of blue paper headed by a rough woodcut soon fluttered on highway and byway to the rose of the winds from lane to lattice and from mouth to ear throughout the five corners of the land of Ireland."
mysteries:
[7:01-8:03]
[0:00-0:57]
I.2: 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47
massgoing ladies from Hume Street in their chairs, the bearers baited,
ReplyDeletesome wandering hamalags out of the adjacent cloverfields of Mosse's Gardens,
an oblate father from Skinner's Alley,
bricklayers, a fleming in tabinet, fumant, with spouse and dog,
an aged hammersmith who had some chisellers by the hand,
a bout of cudgel players, not a few sheep with the braxy,
two bluecoat scholars, four broke gents out of Simpson's on the Rocks,
a portly and a pert still tassing Turkey coffee and orange shrub in Hickey's door,
Peter Pim and Paul Fry and then Elliot
and, O, Atkinson, suffering hell's delights
from the blains of their annuitants' acorns,
not forgetting a deuce of dianas ridy for the hunt,
a particularist prebendary pondering on
the roman easter, the tonsure question and greek uniates, plunk em,
a lace lappet head or two or three or four from a window,
and so on down to a few good old souls who,
as they were juiced after taking their pledge over at the uncle's place,
were evidently under the spell of liquor
from the wake of Tarry the Tailor, a fair girl,
a jolly postoboy thinking off three flagons and one, a plumodrole,
a halfsir from the weaver's almshouse
who clings and clings and chatchatchat clings to her,
a wholedam's, cloudhued pittycoat as child, as curiolater, as Caoch O'Leary.
The wararrow went round, so it did
(a nation wants a gaze), and the ballad,
in the felibrine trancoped metre
affectioned by Taiocebo in his _Casudas de Poulichinello Artahut_,
stumpstampaded on to a slip of blancovide
and headed by an excessively rough and red woodcut,
privately printed at the rimepress of Delville,
soon fluttered its secret on white highway and brown byway
to the rose of the winds and the blew of the gaels,
from green archway to gold lattice and from black hand to pink ear,
village crying to village,
through the five pussyfours of the united states of Scotia Picta —
and he who denayes it, may his hairs be rubbed in dirt!
To the added strains (so peacifold) of his majesty the flute,
that onecrooned king of inscrewments,
Piggott's purest, _ciello alsoliuto_,
which Mr Delaney (Mr Delacey?), horn,
anticipating a perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods,
piped out of his decentsoort hat,
looking still more like his purseyful namesake as men of Gaul noted,
but before of to sputabout,