THE SPEAKER’S COMPLAINT.[C]

AN earthquake is scarcely a joyous event, ’Tis not pleasant to fall from a steeple, There is not much fun in recovering rent Where the Land League has hold of the people; But upheaval of earth Is good reason for mirth, ’Tis jolly o’er Connaught’s bleak border, Compared to a seat Where the Commoners meet When Mulligan rises to order. A touch of the measles, neuralgia’s pain, Catarrhic attacks are not charming, There are even some Benedicts stoutly maintain That a bad-tempered woman’s alarming. Should close diagnosis Reveal your probocis To be of your weakness recorder, You might foolishly curse; But it’s very much worse When Mulligan rises to order. The whoop of a Zulu, the shriek of a shell, A cats’ chorus in conference meeting, Are music compared to the agonized yell Of rage and derision, his greeting; You go home to your bed With a pain in your head, By your pillow stands nightmare a warder; Your sleep is a blight, Your comfort takes flight, Your breathing is tight, You scratch and you bite, Or you wake with affright As you dream through the night That Mulligan rises to order!