THE SPEECH FROM THE THRONE.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume 4, Issue 401, 8 June 1880, Page 3

THE SPEECH FROM THE THRONE.

Orb, shades ay Dim-o-sthane-us, An' aitch grate luiythin janus, Discind from high Olympus, an' assist me to implore The helpnv a'l the Muses, Whe niver yet refuses, But ivennofe infuses ■ Mo chuneful lire to soar. I'll mount me bould Pig-asses, An, thravel to Parnassus, To taste the springs o' Hillicon an 1 give me var6es tone, I'm filled wid admirashun, v Upon this grand occashun, Me thaime is the orashun Delivered from tbe throne. Since Sisero, the Roman, There niver yit was no man That spoke sich tundhrin' iloquint palaver ; —Ooh tnavrone, Not Grattan, I'll go bail, nor Brave Dan, tbe grate repailer, Nor Barry, the bould whaler, Spoke so grand from the throne. Begorra, I was wishin' The lovely composishun , Was one o' me iflEushune, an' rote be me ! alone; Luk here, me dacint naybors, Sir Herculis's laybors ! Wor mighty grand, be jabers, That day from tlie throne. j The nate an' lovely phraysis, Upon me sowl, amazes j The * tewjints ay . the colliges who study I the high flown, 'Twas like a purty pome, he Rend wid sich sweet aromy, An' here's an ippytomey Ay the speech from the throne : — " Me noble lords and gintlemin, Begog, I'm happy for to meet yez, Our counthry calls yer here agin, An' faix, me boys, I'm proud to greet "yez, The monethary pressure's past, The hard times lias at last gone by, sirs, Th* counthry's comin' right at last, Fnix, so I'm tould be me advisers. "The local manufacthnrs now Ijigage our sarious attinshun ; To lain the natives how to plough I've sint some boys, I here may minshun; I've taken steps to guard our shores— Bould Colonel Scratchley's very wise, sirs, He wants big guns—some mighty bores He'll aisy find 'mongme advisers. " The rivinu an istimates Are ready for ye in the budget, Begog we'll have to pay more rates, But sure I know yell niver grudge it; We've bills galore to mind and meet, We have been living far too high, sirs, We're on our last legs, or our feet, ; Faix so I'm tould be me advisers. " Ay coorse the lands we will unlock, We want to sittle hardy yo-rrim Upon aitch fertile farm and block (Whist, boys; for this is only blow, mm). An' now, me hearties/let me bless Yer Jewries, labours, and yer eyes, sirs ; This nate and beautiful addhress Was rote for me be me advisers. PADDY MURPHY. ■.- Lambton Kay, 28th May, 1880.