Ignis Fatuus

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Ignis Fatuus

Weep, weep, each loyal partisan,

For Buckley, king of hearts;

A most accomplished man; a man

Of parts⁠—of foreign parts.

Long years he ruled with gentle sway,

Nor grew his glory dim;

And he would be with us to-day

If we were but with him.

Men wondered at his going off

In such a sudden way;

’Twas thought, as he had come to scoff

He would remain to prey.

Since he is gone we’re all agreed

That he is what men call

A crook: his very steps, indeed,

Are bent⁠—to Montreal.

So let our tears unhindered flow,

Our sighs and groans have way:

It matters not how much we O!⁠—

The devil is to pay.