Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SHANAHAN'S OULD QUEEN, by GERALD BRENNAN First Line: This is the tale that cassidy told Last Line: For the taste o' a mornin's mornin' in shanahan's ould shebeen! Variant Title(s): The Mornin's Mornin' Subject(s): Adventure & Adventurers | ||||||||
THIS IS THE TALE that Cassidy told In his halls a-sheen with purple and gold; Told as he sprawled in an easy chair, Chewing cigars at a dollar a pair; Told with a sigh, and perchance a tear, As the rough soul showed through the cracked veneer; Told as he gazed on the walls near by, Where a Greuze and a Millet were hung on high, With a rude little print in a frame between -- A picture of Shanahan's ould shebeen. I'm drinkin' me mornin's mornin' -- but it doesn't taste th' same, Tho' the glass is iv finest crystal, an' th' liquor slips down like crame, An' me Cockney footman brings it on a soort of a silver plate -- Sherry an' bitters it is, whiskey is out iv date. In me bran-new brownstone mansion -- Fift' Av'noo over th' way -- The cathaydral round th' corner, an' the Lord Archbishop to tay. Sure I ought to be sthiff wid grandeur, but me tastes are mighty mean, An' I'd rather a mornin's mornin' at Shanahan's ould shebeen. Oh, well do I mind th' shanty -- th' rocks an' th' field beyant, The dirt floor yellow wid sawdust, an' th' walls on a three-inch slant; There's a twelve-story flat on the site now -- 'twas meself that builded the same, An' they called it the Mont-morincy, tho' I wanted th' good ould name. Me dinner pail under me oxther before th' whistle blew, I'd banish the drames from me eyelids wid a noggin or maybe two; An' oh, 'twas th' illigant whiskey -- its like I have never seen Since I went for me mornin's mornin' to Shanahan's ould shebeen. I disremember th' makers -- I couldn't tell you the brand, But it smiled like the golden sunlight, an' it looked an' tasted gr-rand. When me throat was caked wid mortar an' me head was cracked wid a blast, One drink o' Shanahan's dewdrops an' all me troubles was past. That's why, as I squat on th' cushins, wid divil a hap'orth to do, In a mornin' coat wid velvit, an' a champagne lunch at two, Th' memory comes like a banshee, meself an' me wealth between, An' I long for a mornin's mornin' in Shanahan's ould shebeen. A mornin' coat lined wid velvit -- an' me ould coat used to do Alike for mornin' an' evenin', (an' sometimes I slep' in it, too!) An' 'twas divil a sup iv sherry that Shanahan kept -- no fear. If you can't afford good whiskey he'd take you on trust fer beer. Th' dacintist gang I knew there -- McCarthy, (Sinathor since,) An' Murphy that mixed the morthar, (sure the Pope has made him a prince). You should see 'em, avic, o' Sundays, wid faces scraped an' clean, When th' boss stood a mornin's mornin' round Shanahan's ould shebeen. Whist! here comes His Grace's carriage, 'twill be lunch time by and by, An' I dasn't drink another -- though me throat is powerful dry; For I've got to meet th' Archbishop -- I'm a laborer now no more, But ohone, those were fine times then, lad, an' to talk o' 'em makes me sore. An' whisper -- there's times, I tell you, when I'd swap this easy chair, An' the velvit coat an' the footman, wid his Sassenach nose in the air, An' the' Lord Archbishop himself, too, for a drink o' the days that ha' been, For the taste o' a mornin's mornin' in Shanahan's ould shebeen! | Discover our poem explanations - click here!Other Poems of Interest...GRATITUDE TO OLD TEACHERS by ROBERT BLY BLESSING THE BOATS (AT ST. MARY'S) by LUCILLE CLIFTON HER MONOLOGUE OF DARK CREPE WITH EDGES OF LIGHT by NORMAN DUBIE THE PRAYER OF AGASSIZ by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE FOOL'S ADVENTURE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE ADVENTURE ON THE WINGS OF MORNING by RACHEL ALBRIGHT ADMIRAL, HAIL! by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD THE THINKER'S VISION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE GREAT ADVENTURE (WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO GEORGE MATTHEW ADAMS) by BERTON BRALEY |
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