'Tis now just a year since, come Saint Patrick's Day, Whin down through the town I was takin' me way, A song in me hairt, and arrayed in me best, In me swallow-tailed coat and me Dublin-made vest. Me breeches and boots wur the best to be had, Faith, I cut quite an airtistic figure, bedad; (Now, wait a bit, Nora. I'm comin' to that—) On the top o' me head was an illegant hat! Mesilf, I felt shure that no better had been, The contour was grand—and the color was green. 'Twas down be O'Hanlon's, begorra, I found A group o' bould hoodlums was hangin' around— Whin I drew abrist o' thim, I railized that They wur passin' remairks on me illegant hat, With a makin' o' faces and words to wan side, As 'the bow is too big' or 'the band is too wide'. Sez wan, "See how jaunty it sits on his head. I'd sooner be wearin' a sthove-pipe instead." Wan laughed at the crown, and wan laughed at the brim— I paid no attintion to aither o' thim. I was minded to give thim "the top o' the day," And kape walkin' along on me own paceful way— Thought I, "Let thim be after havin' their fun, With quips and with quirks 'tis no hairm can be done—" Thin wan lad sez somethin', me bhoy, d'ye see, That made me blood bile, be the powers that be! (I'm a good-natured soul, but I'm tellin' ye here, I can swallow a joke, but I choke on a jeer.) I raiched for his collar. Me Irish was up! "I'll taich ye a lesson!" sez I to the pup— In Saint Patrick's Hospital he can be seen, Unfortunate divil—he laughed at the green! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |