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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538764" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Three Christmas Waits</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My name is Pleaceman X;<br>Last night I was in bed,<br>A dream did me perplex,<br>Which came into my Edd.<br>I dreamed I sor three Waits<br>A playing of their tune,<br>At Pimlico Palace gates,<br>All underneath the moon.<br>One puffed a hold French horn,<br>And one a hold Banjo,<br>And one chap seedy and torn<br>A Hirish pipe did blow.<br>They sadly piped and played,<br>Dexcribing of their fates;<br>And this was what they said,<br>Those three pore Christmas Waits:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When this black year began,<br>This Eighteen-forty-eight,<br>I was a great great man,<br>And king both vise and great,<br>And Munseer Guizot by me did show<br>As Minister of State.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But Febuwerry came,<br>And brought a rabble rout,<br>And me and my good dame<br>And children did turn out,<br>And us, in spite of all our right.<br>Sent to the right about.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I left my native ground,<br>I left my kin and kith,<br>I left my royal crownd,<br>Vich I couldn't travel vith,<br>And without a pound came to English ground,<br>In the name of Mr. Smith.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Like any anchorite<br>I've lived since I came here,<br>I've kep myself quite quite,<br>I've drank the small small beer,<br>And the vater, you see, disagrees vith me<br>And all my famly dear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Tweeleries so dear,<br>O darling Pally Royl,<br>Vas it to finish here<br>That I did trouble and toyl?<br>That all my plans should break in my ands,<br>And should on me recoil?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My state I fenced about<br>Vith baynicks and vith guns;<br>My gals I portioned hout,<br>Rich vives I got my sons;<br>O varn't it crule to lose my rule,<br>My money and lands at once?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And so, vith arp and woice,<br>Both troubled and shagreened,<br>I hid you to rejoice,<br>O glorious England's Queend!<br>And never have to veep, like pore Louis-Phileep,<br>Because you out are cleaned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Prins, so brave and stout,<br>I stand before your gate;<br>Pray send a trifle hout<br>To me, your pore old Vait;<br>For nothink could be vuss than it's been along vith us<br>In this year Forty-eight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ven this bad year began,'<br>The nex man said, seysee,<br>'I vas a Journeyman,<br>A taylor black and free,<br>And my wife went out and chaired about,<br>And my name's the bold Cuffee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The Queen and Halbert both<br>I swore I would confound,<br>I took a hawfle hoath<br>To drag them to the ground;<br>And sevral more with me they swore<br>Aginst the British Crownd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Aginst her Pleacemen all<br>We said we'd try our strenth;<br>Her scarlick soldiers tall<br>We vow'd we'd lay full lenth;<br>And out we came, in Freedom's name,<br>Last Aypril was the tenth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Three 'undred thousand snobs<br>Came out to stop the vay,<br>Vith sticks vith iron knobs,<br>Or else we'd gained the day.<br>The harmy quite kept out of sight,<br>And so ve vent avay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Next day the Pleacemen came—<br>Rewenge it was their plann—<br>And from my good old dame<br>They took her tailor-mann:<br>And the hard hard beak did me bespeak<br>To Newgit in the Wann.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'In that etrocious Cort<br>The Jewry did agree;<br>The Judge did me transport,<br>To go beyond the sea:<br>And so for life, from his dear wife<br>They took poor old Cuffee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Halbert, Appy Prince!<br>With children round your knees,<br>Ingraving ansum Prints,<br>And taking hoff your hease;<br>O think of me, the old Cuffee,<br>Beyond the solt solt seas!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Although I'm hold and black,<br>My hanguish is most great;<br>Great Prince, O call me back,<br>And I vill be your Vait!<br>And never no more vill break the Lor,<br>As I did in 'Forty-eight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tailer thus did close<br>(A pore old blackymore rogue),<br>When a dismal gent uprose,<br>And spoke with Hirish brogue:<br>'I'm Smith O'Brine, of Royal Line,<br>Descended from Rory Ogue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When great O'Connle died,<br>That man whom all did trust,<br>That man whom Henglish pride<br>Beheld with such disgust,<br>Then Erin free fixed eyes on me,<br>And swoar I should be fust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''The glorious Hirish Crown,'<br>Says she, 'it shall be thine:<br>Long time, it's wery well known,<br>You kep it in your line;<br>That diadem of hemerald gem<br>Is yours, my Smith O'Brine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Too long the Saxon churl<br>Our land encumbered hath;<br>Arise my Prince, my Earl,<br>And brush them from thy path:<br>Rise, mighty Smith, and sveep 'em vith<br>The besom of your wrath.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then in my might I rose,<br>My country I surveyed,<br>I saw it filled with foes,<br>I viewed them undismayed;<br>'Ha, ha!' says I, 'the harvest's high,<br>I'll reap it with my blade.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My warriors I enrolled,<br>They rallied round their lord;<br>And cheafs in council old<br>I summoned to the board—<br>Wise Doheny and Duffy bold,<br>And Meagher of the Sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I stood on Slievenamaun,<br>They came with pikes and bills;<br>They gathered in the dawn,<br>Like mist upon the hills,<br>And rushed adown the mountain side<br>Like twenty thousand rills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Their fortress we assail;<br>Hurroo! my boys, hurroo!<br>The bloody Saxons quail<br>To hear the wild Shaloo:<br>Strike, and prevail, proud Innesfail,<br>O'Brine aboo, aboo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Our people they defied;<br>They shot at 'em like savages,<br>Their bloody guns they plied<br>With sanguinary ravages:<br>Hide, blushing Glory, hide<br>That day among the cabbages!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And so no more I'll say,<br>But ask your Mussy great.<br>And humbly sing and pray,<br>Your Majesty's poor Wait:<br>Your Smith O'Brine in 'Forty-nine<br>Will blush for 'Forty-eight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Makepeace+Thackeray">William Makepeace Thackeray</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538764" data-title="The Three Christmas Waits de William Makepeace Thackeray" data-description="My name is Pleaceman X;
Last night I was in bed,
A dream did me perplex,
Which came into my Edd.
I dreamed I sor three Waits
A playing of their tune,
At Pimlico Palace gates,
All underneath the moon.
One puffed a hold French horn,
And one a hold B..."></div>
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