The Poetry Corner

Origin Of Ireland, The

By Unknown

With due condescension, I'd call your attention To what I shall mention of Erin so green, And without hesitation I will show how that nation Became of creation the gem and the queen. 'Twas early one morning, without any warning, That Vanus was born in the beautiful say, And by the same token, and sure 'twas provoking, Her pinions were soaking and wouldn't give play. Old Neptune, who knew her, began to pursue her, In order to woo her, the wicked old Jew, And almost had caught her atop of the water, Great Jupiter's daughter! which never would do. But Jove, the great janius, looked down and saw Vanus, And Neptune so heinous pursuing her wild, And he spoke out in thunder, he'd rend him asunder, And sure 'twas no wonder, for tazing his child. A star that was flying hard by him espying, He caught with small trying, and down let it snap; It fell quick as winking, on Neptune a-sinking, And gave him, I'm thinking, a bit of a rap. That star it was dry land, both low land and high land, And formed a sweet island, the land of my birth; Thus plain is the story, that sent down from glory, Old Erin asthore as the gem of the earth! Upon Erin nately jumped Vanus so stately, But fainted, kase lately so hard she was pressed, Which much did bewilder, but ere it had killed her Her father distilled her a drop of the best. That sup was victorious, it made her feel glorious, A little uproarious, I fear it might prove, So how can you blame us that Ireland's so famous For drinking and beauty, for fighting and love?