. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. ottomlesse ? XIV. Yet would the Muse not chide the wholesome useOf needful discipline, in due of sway, what wrongs will time produce,Wheneer the twig untraind grows up a tree 1This shall a Carder, that a Whiteboy be,Ferocious leaders of atrocious Learnings help be used for infamieBy lawless clerks, that, with their bloody hands,In murderd English write Rocks murderous commands. THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER. 165 XV. But ah ! what shrilly cry doth now alarmThe sooty fowls that dozed upon tfee beam,All sudden fluttering from
. The choice works of Thomas Hood, in prose and verse. ottomlesse ? XIV. Yet would the Muse not chide the wholesome useOf needful discipline, in due of sway, what wrongs will time produce,Wheneer the twig untraind grows up a tree 1This shall a Carder, that a Whiteboy be,Ferocious leaders of atrocious Learnings help be used for infamieBy lawless clerks, that, with their bloody hands,In murderd English write Rocks murderous commands. THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER. 165 XV. But ah ! what shrilly cry doth now alarmThe sooty fowls that dozed upon tfee beam,All sudden fluttering from the Vjrandishd arm,And cacklin;,; chorus with the human scream ?Meanwhile, the scourge plies that unkindly seamIn Phelims brogues, which bares his naked skin,Like traitor gap in warlike fort, I deem,That falsely lets the fierce besieger in ;Nor seeks the Pedagogue by other course to win. XVI. No parent dear he nath to heed his cries ;—Alas ! his parent dear is far aloof,And deep in Seven-Dial cellar lies,Killd by kind cudgel-play, or gin of proof,. All in the downs. Or climbeth, catwise, on some London roof,Singing, perchance, a lay of Erins Isle,Or, whilst he labours, weaves a fancy-woof,Dreaming he sees his home,—his Phelim smile ;Ah me ! that luckless imp, who weepeth all the while I XVII. Ah ! who can paint that hard and heavy time,When first the scholar lists in Learnin^^s mounts her rugged steep, enforced to climb,Like sooty imp, by sharp posterior pain t66 THE IRISH SCHOOLMASTER, From bloody twig, and eke that Indian cane,Wherein, alas ! no sugard juices dwell ;For this, the while one striplings sluices drain,Another weepeth over chilblains fell,Always upon the heel, yet never to be well! XVIII. : \ Anon a third, for his delicious root,Late ravishd from his tooth by elder chit-So so!>n is human violence afoot,So hardly is the harmless biter bit !Meanwhile, the tyrant, with untimely witAnd mouthing face, derides the small ones moan,Who, all lamenting for
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