Ballad
of ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGONS
IN the days of old ST. GEORGE, we're told,
A mighty Dragon slew;
You cannot fail to know the tale,
And so of course it's true.
This
wondrous dragon a length would drag on
Of yards above a score,
'Twas that at least -- the ugly beast! --
Some stories make it more.
And
every day, the legends say,
From cavern dark emergin',
'Twould waste and slay, and bear away
Some very tender virgin.
It
roused the gorge of good ST. GEORGE,
To hear of deeds so cruel,
And a vow he vow'd, both deep and loud,
To give "that snake" his
gruel.
'Twas
a terrible shock. "By Shrewsbury clock"
Three hours the conflict lasted,
When -- to cut things short, as a poet ought --
His hide the Saint well basted.
Ha!
brave ST.GEORGE! -- but kind ST. GEORGE,
Pray heed our supplication,
For a Thing more vile now plagues the isle,
And terrifies the nation.
'Tis
a treacherous baste, with never a taste
Of honour, love, or pity,
From Fenian name of old it came,
But was hatched in New York city.
Just
give the word -- but flash thy sword,
Its bones we'll quickly raddle;
Or, what were best, we'll make the pest
Across the seas skedaddle.
POSTSCRIPT.
And
after that trick, pray tell ST. PATRICK
(Where he lives you must determine),
From his island home, with a bran-new broom,
Once more to sweep the vermin.