POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1694, 25 July 1879, Page 2

POETRY.

THE IRISH ECLIPSE.

[From “ Scribner’s Monthly.”} In Wathsrford, wanst, lived Profissor Mac Shane, The foinest asthronomer iver was sane ; For long before noight, wid the scoienoe he knew, Whoriver wan shtar was, sure ho could see two

Quoite plain, Could Froliesorr Mac Shane,

More power to him ! iv’ry claare noight as would pass. He’d sit by the windy, a-shoving his glass ; A poke at the dipper, that plaised him the laist, But a punch in the milky way suited his taste, —

Small blame To his eowl for that same I

Now wan toime in Wathorford, not Jong ago, They had what tho loiko was not haard of, I know, Since Erin was undher ould Brian Borrhoime :

The sun was aycllpsed for three days at wan toime !

It’s thruo As I tell it to you

’Twas snoroise long gone, yet the sun never rose, Aud ivTywan axed, “ What’s the matther, God knows p” The next day, and next, was the very same way ; The noight was so leng it was lasting all day,

As black As the coat on yer back,

The paiplo wint hunting Profissorr MacEhanc, To thry if he’d know what this wondher

could maue; Ho auswore thim back : “Is that so? Are

yo there ? 'Tis a lot of most ib'gant gommachs ya air. To ax For the plainest of facts ! “ Ye’re put of an impoiro, ycz mnsn't forget, Upon which tho sun’s niver able to set; Thin why will it give yorimpoire a surproieo If wanst, for a change, ho refuses to roiso? ” Eiz he, “ That is aizy to see I ”