THE MAJOR'S LAMENT FOR THE PASSING OF THE SUNDAY CLOSING BILL.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume VI, Issue 286, 25 October 1878, Page 5

THE MAJOR'S LAMENT FOR THE PASSING OF THE SUNDAY CLOSING BILL.

*> (Written to his favourite air.) I. The Bill has been passed, And ould Ireland at last Will be turned to a sober and dry land ; On Sundays the taps Will be turned off (perhaps) In each sweet little town of our island. Oh, what scandalous treatment for my land, That long was a sprightly and spry land ! The people will pine And their glory decline 'Neath that measure malign, in our island. 11. Yes, its ruin we'll see, For what else can it be But a lifeless and gloomy and shy land, When its peasants, alas ! Can procure after Mass Not a pint or a glass in our island ! Ochone for our once merry island, So jovial in valley and highland ! Our songs must be hushed For our spirits are crushed By that Act that they've rushed on our island. in. Each Sunday of yore There was humour galore From Cahirciveen to Kathfrilaml ; And the girls and the boys Had divarsion and noise And a thousand blight joys in our island. Ah 1 then 'twas a right little island, A pleasant and tight little island ! But what mirth can have aid, Or what fun can be made, From that thrash, lemonade, in our island ? IV. I'll not live in the place — To the home of my race I will now say in sorrow " Good bj T e, land,"' For her pride is laid low Since Sir Wilfred and Co. Dealt that murthering blow at our island. Mavrone for our dear little island, 'Twill soon be the desolate island ; Neither lich men nor poor Can survive or endure, That cowld wather cure in our island. — Nation