Classic Poem

They were two Irish lads with their hearts all a-throb, —
They 'd been killing the pigs and just finished the job:
" Now, Patrick, come here wid yer broad Irish back!
Take up these potatoes, the full o' the sack!
And ye 'll niver get weary, now mind phat I say,
Till ye 're down by the house of the Widow McKay;
Lave them under the hedge, covered up by the twigs,
And I 'll follow ye shortly wid one o' the pigs;
Thin I 'll take the potatoes and knock at her door,
Like ye 'll do wid the pig in a few minutes more.
What for? For to ate! trust yer brother for that;
Ye 've the heart in yer vest, I 've the brains in me hat!
We 've enough for the winter, a trifle beside,
While the widow has nothin' to ate but her pride.

" She was born a true lady, and stuck to it well,
But now she 's come down in the cottage to dwell;
Havin' lost the estate she is mighty poor now
And can't earn her livin', she does n't know how;
While Sorrow, pale spinner, has left in her hair
A few silver threads from the shuttle of care.
Though she 's too proud to say it, I know she 's in need,
And ye 'll not suffer that if ye 're true Irish breed.

" She was kind to us both whin she 'd plenty, galore,
So lave down the sack where I told ye before;
And whin I 've got in and the meetin' occurred
Ye 'll come in wid the pig, niver sayin' a word;
Lave the pig do the talkin', although he be dead;
Whin yer charity spakes kape yer tongue in yer head.
Don't be wastin' the time whin ye know ye 're all right;
Though the burden be heavy yer heart makes it light,
And the moisture of toil from yer brow shall arise
Like an incense of charity, clane to the skies. "

Daniel went to the door, gave a delicate knock, —
With his heart throbbing loud like the tick of a clock: —
" Why, Daniel, God bless you! " said Widow McKay,
" God bring ye a blessin' yerself, the same day, "
Said Daniel, " But speakin' o' blessin's, look here:
Are ye raisin' potatoes on bushes this year?
Some thief left 'em there, for me honor I pledge,
I found these potatoes hid under yer hedge! "

" I have no potatoes, good Daniel, you see,
Then how could a thief take potatoes from me?
Though honesty 's written all over your face
You would lie for the truth like the rest of the race. "
" 'T is the truth, for I made the bold thief put 'em down:
He 'd a taste o' me moind on the top of his crown;
I could beat him no further, although I was roiled,
Lest I mash the potatoes before they were boiled.
Ye can ask the potatoes, they 'll tell ye no lies,
They could see it themselves, they have plenty of eyes.
These Murphys are moral and moity well raised,
And if wid their actions yer iver displazed,
Take their coats off and warm thim, as one would a lad;
It will be yer own fault if they iver turn bad.

" But a sorry, sad favor I 'll ask ye this time, —
For Patrick, me brother, 's committed a crime: —
Ye know what a temper he has, I declare;
Well, yer pig was out walkin', just takin' the air
And what he could find — found a hole in our fence;
Once into the garden he would n't go thence,
But kept gruntin' — " Ugh! Ugh! " meanin': " Lave me alone! "
Thin Patrick gets mad and he ups wid a stone, —
And the pig turnin' round wid a look of surprise,
The stone struck him fair right betune his two eyes;
And he lay there confessin' the sins of his life,
Whin I saved him by cuttin' his throat wid me knife.

" Then straightway we dressed him: " You killed him!" said Pat.
" It was I saved his bacon, ye rogue, mark you that!" "

" Hush, Daniel, I have n't a pig on the place! "
" That is true, " muttered Dan, " for he 's dead, save yer grace!
Here they come, both heads down; don't let on that ye know;
For Pat, like the pig, feels the weight of the blow.
See the prisoner come wid his crime to the bar!
Ah, Patrick, ye look like the culprit ye are!
The widow 's in tears that her pig should be dead!
Take it out of her sight! Lave it down in the shed!
She 'll forgive ye this toime if ye 'll try to be good,
So ye 'll cut up the pork while I cut up some wood:
As a bit of a relish whin through wid our toil,
She 'll put on some potatoes to try how they 'd boil —
Wid a taste o' the pork, till we see whin we dine,
The Divil of Hunger cast out by the swine. "

They sat at the table, each bowing his head: —
" What need ask the blessin'? 'tis here! " Daniel said.
Her heart clogged her throat and the tears clogged her eye;
Which the boys could n't stand; they slipped out on the sly,
And walking off home with their hearts swelling big,
Said they never before got so much for a pig.

" If we lied wid our tongues, we did not wid our heart;
And the widow is prayin', now takin' our part;
And if word could come down, sure, St. Peter would say:
" You boys do the work, leave the widow to pray!"
And whin we go up he will say, I presume: —
" These boys fed the widow! Let angels make room!" "