THE THREE KINGDOMS.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 4801, 11 August 1876, Page 3

THE THREE KINGDOMS.

BY PADDY MOBPHY OE ,WELLINGTON. (From the Saturday Advertiser.) ; Whisper, Misther Editor, ! want to spake a word to ye ; jist the laste taste in private, Jor,, betune you an’ me, its a grate saycrit I’m goin’ to disclose. At a Kawkass meetiu’ held a few nights since, wid myself in the chair, it was unanimously resolved that the counthry be cut up into three powerful inohular kingdoms, to consist av the North, the Middle, and the South Islands, as soon as Siparation is carried. I have it on good authority that Sir George Grey is to rule the North, Mac the Middle, and Stout the South, as he undherstands fishiu’. This arrangemint gave birth to the followin’ beautiful idayas which I have wove into a nate garland av song for the ,occasion : Como Polyphamus, and likewise Kaymus, An’ all ye Jaynii av ancient times, AViil Eadamantus, attind an’ grant us The Muses’ favor for me humble rhymes ; Like ould King Priam, their sarvint I am. The devil a lie I am tellin’ ye ; Wid your atthinshon I’ll quickly minshon A haro's praises in sweet po-et-threo. Oar Fedhral band or Squad’s grate commandher. Is a long way grandher thin the King o’ Throy, Or fair Pandora, or charmin’ Flora, Or ancient Thaysis, that Athenian boy. This chieftain glorious is now victorious. An’ we’re uprorlous to have our own Provincial Nation, wid Siparation, King George we’ll station upon Auckland’s throne. An’ thin there’s Mao, boys, he’ll not bo slack, boys, To claim His whack, boys—long live King Jim— His realms are broader than Maggie Lauder, Or the Thane o’Cawdor—long life to him. Aitch.hill an’ mountain, aitch creek an’ fountain, From Hokeyteeky to Pilichey Bay, AltCh pig an’ stye, boys (faix, that’s no lie, boys), ’ Wid sheep an' kyo, boys, shall own his sway. ■ ‘Ah’hixt comes Bobby, whose little, hobby ' Is jist a job he has now on hand; Called V Local Option,’’, for our adoption— Sure Stewart’s Isle will be his kingdom grand. He looks demure, boys, but there he’ll sure, hoys, Makes potheen pure, boys, from a quiet Still . ’ (In Shetland Islands, amongst the Highlands, He lamed the saycrit av a whisky mill.) Thin down wid Vogel, that 'cute ould bogle— Och, sich a rogue’ll ne’er reign agin ' ; • In Saysir’s garment—the dirty varmint Would make New Zaylanders united min, In Union's chains, boys, he’U bind our plains, boys; But soon the reins, boys, will lave his claws; ' Thin kingdoms three, boys, will surely bo, boys. Proud, grate, an’ free, boys, wid splendid laws. Paddy Mukmy. Lambton Kay, July 29.