Alexander Anderson Poems
A Legend Of St. Patrick
I heard this old legend a few days ago—
A legend so quaint
Of Ireland's saint,
That to lighten my time
I have put it in rhyme,
Just to see how it looks with the lines all a-row.
When St Patrick, that worthy dear man, came to see
How the reptiles polluted his darling 'conthree,'
He determined to stamp them, so set out with glee
To hunt them with curses until they should flee
To less favour'd nations over the sea,
Where they might rest their feet,
Safe in some snug retreat,
And have leisure to cool themselves down from their heat,
And make ...
'More coal, Bill,' he said, and he held his watch to the light of the glowing fire;
'We are now an hour and a half behind time, and I know that my four months' wife
Will be waiting for me at the doorway just now, with never a wish to tire;
But she soon will get used to this sort of thing in an engine-driver's life.'
He open'd the furnace door as he spoke, while I, turning with shovel in hand,
Knock'd the fuel into the greedy flame, that was tossing and writhing about,
Leaping up from its