THATCHER'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume I, Issue 204, 8 July 1864, Page 4

THATCHER'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

AS TH2T.>ri?HRD BY HIM OX THE Of HIS LAST AI'TT VTANCK IX AUCKLAND, GtII JU.iA, 18G 4. "We've off on Friday—yes, it- is too ti" Q To-ni<rht W'o'rc here to say good-bve to you. - This is our last ni'?ht —this, my Inst address, , T'm nearly overcomo, I must confess. ■* . • _ UTr- w* "I"'* nncl now we say faiw\ell , When shall v.-e meet aDiiin ? nh ! can tG " • P'rnns some of you in here to-night may yearn TV> 1,-nmv when hack to Auckland we'll return ; T R71 c t .-p.-, when tho street* aro naved and Jig- tua, And Shortfand Crescent finds itself not. slighted. Ton ask me now when that eyent will he. Your question, T must say, gets oyer 'Twill lip, no doubt, when pigs begin to flv ; When of the Mogul, 5Wn Tap, they imy: When .Tames grows modest, and don t show his ■_ When boatmen here, keep sober a whole wcolc ; When drapers don't cut down the tailors' prices, And Hnrnp with Posseiniske fraternises; When this lontr war shall como unto an end, And Kinffites 'gainst our troops no more contend; When you can find a public-house quite handy, Where you can fret, n drop of decent brandy ; When in thj street nice cabs begin to ply, And babies nt a concert neyer cry , When William Thompson puts up no moro pas, And saintly folks give oyer these bazaars ; AVhen, as friends, Williamson and Graham meet ; When these things happen, they'll improVo Queenstreet. This is the Inst time Hint"we meet together, And, lest we be detained by squally weather, And at tho Mannkau are forced to stay, Before long we'll be many a milo awav._ That wo aro going ynu may all bo certain ; T'm not tho owner of this green baize curtain 'Twas sold to-day,—its glory now is past— To what base uses may we cofno at last ? They'll take it down and low ignoble minds — P'raps may convert it into window Blinds. These sacred curtains, that, so long did hang To adorn tho TTall where Smalt, and TirATCiimt sang Are sold : hut lot's hope, though we nro bereft Of all our h»i:e, wo've still some laurels left, And all the lamps that now so brightly shine "Do so on sufferance, for thev are not mine : Put worso than nil, our lovely scenery Out up to paper rooms no doubt will be. The wings are sold (plain proof we're going to fly), And they'll be mutilated bve and bye. This hallowed carpet, too, I own with sorrow, "\Vill ruthlessly be pulled up on the morrow. Kach lamp goes to adorn some meaner place. And vet they shine, in spite of their disgrnco! Their horrid treatment—why do they not toll me, Or sins: the song, " Why did my master sell mo ?" Or, if not able to make this remark, "Why not go out and leave us in the dark ? Yes, wo are off once moro—J say farewell; deep emotion now T cmnofc tell. Thanks my kind friends for your long patronngo' Of us. while singing on this little stage. You'll not forget, us, and perchance will long— When Thatcher's rone to- hear a local sonar. flood bye: I'm broken hearted—that's quite certain, I'll now retire to weep behind the curtain.