Classic Poem

As Morris once stroll'd into Trinity church,
He quickly discovered he'd got in a lurch;
For, as soon as the minister eyes on him set,
" S'blood, Morris, " says he, " but I'll give you a sweat. "
Down, down, down, Derry Down!

" This scapegrace, my breth'ren, who keeps such late hours,
" And Broadway from the Park to the Battery scours,
" Must not fancy, from me, he his wickedness hides,
" Since they know up aloft when he frolics at Dyde's. " —
Down, down, down, Derry Down!

Then he talk'd very much 'bout the " SIGNS of the Times , "
And that pulling them down , was the vilest of crimes!
He that pulls down a sign should be laid fast in fetters.
Since 'tis plain that he hastens — the downfall of letters!
Down, down, down, Derry Down!

In defense, Morris urg'd — tho' he frolic'd at night,
Yet, according to Scripture, he acted but right;
For at night he improved his time like the devil,
As very well knowing " the days, " sir, " are evil. "
Down, down, down, Derry Down!

With respect to the sign, no defense need be made —
As he wish'd but to give Mr. Cheesbrough his trade —
So not caring just then the good folks to arouse —
He wisely took down , sir, the name of the house!
Down, down, down, Derry Down!

Far be it from him, sir, the peace to molest —
He meant, on the contrary, all for the best: —
And tho' he had shoulder'd the sign in his fun,
He was sure he had given the firm a good run!
Down, down, down, Derry Down!