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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE IRISH NEW POLICEMAN, by                    
First Line: "your pardon, gents and ladies all"
Last Line: For don't myself get half the booty?
Subject(s): Crimes & Criminals;ireland;police;streets; Irish;avenues


Your pardon, gents and ladies all --
Listen awhile to me and my blarney --
Straight from Dublin town I came:
Faith! my name is Michael Carney.
Trade was scarce and luck was bad;
Humblings, grumblings, ne'er did cease, man,
Till straight to town I came, egad,
And soon was made a new policeman.

* * *

There isn't a yard nor a garden wall,
About the town, but I can scale it;
And if I find anything at all,
Why, shouldn't I be a fool not to take it?
Next day there is a hue and cry,
Something's stolen, but to be brief, man,
Oh, by the oky, who but I
Go out to catch the thief, man?

Suppose, in walking out at night,
In every hole and corner creeping,
Something I spy by the pale moonlight,
Och! by my soul, there's a gentleman sleeping,
His pockets I grope, his money I take,
Then with my stick in his ribs I am jobbing him,
And if perchance the fool should wake,
I tell him I think a thief was robbing him.

If there's no row in the whole street,
Don't I myself know how to raise one? --
I knocks the first man down I meet
And kicks up a shindy, fit to craze one;
Then he resists, and I've a job --
Lock him up and swear he's riotly,
Next day the scoundrel's fined ten bob,
Because myself must not murder him quietly.

I'm known to all the prigs in town --
To learned thieves well known my face is,
The frail ones, too, my favours own,
And charge me naught for sweet embraces,
And if they're going a house to rob,
Don't I watch (as is my duty)?
But never splits about the job,
For don't myself get half the booty?





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