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RETIRED ON PENSION   
To John Duncan Esq.
Most Respecfully

With great respect I beg to say,
My pension file came down to-day.
And  not withstanding all my tricks,
You've granted me the "thirty-six";
The sum entire and nothing less,
That I was anxious to possess.
For, sir, I would have felt ashamed
Had any smaller sum been named.
Therefore, before I quit the ranks,
I give you all my grateful thanks,
And now, although I'll toil no more
A member of this Royal Corps,
I won't forget I've done a share
To win the laurels that we wear;
And even yet, with sword or quill,
I'll be a good policeman still.
For five and thirty years and more
That Fate attached me to the corps,
I've done my best in every way
To give good labour for the pay.
I always felt an inward pride
In even doing more beside.
I taught the young what they should do,
In teaching them I learned, too;
And by such means we got to be
What officers were glad to see.
Our knowledge of the rules and laws
Has often gained us some applause.
So late as May, in "Seventy-one"
We had a visit from "Sir John."
He praised me much both there and then,
Before my officers and men -
"Regretting much,"he kindly said,
"That I had got so gray a head,"
But had we met some years before,
He'd place me higher in the Corps,
So much from him and more beside -
That added, greatly to my pride.
I prosecuted for the crown
For every crime from murder down,
That malice, or the want of wit,
Could tempt a sinner to commit.
Yet never sought to win reward,
Or get one action on record,
For which my "Balance Sheet" to-day
Is wound up in a different way.
Far from the way indeed it might,
If  I had only acted right.
Blind Fortune's last unlucky thrust -
(The least deserved but far the worst) -
By which a two pound debt is due.
Besides I lose some credit, too;
And at the time must be confessed
The act I did was for the best.
The "Orders" that I got that day
No mortal living could obey.
A contradiction was involved,
I dare not act till that was solved,
Yet I admitted - as a choice -
Through pure respect for Mr. Royce,
Who did his best, beyond a doubt,
To clear my name and bear me out.
No matter now - 'tis past and gone -
The pension's signed by good "Sir John."
The coming month - some early day,
I'll pack my traps for sweet Clew Bay,
And follow Phoebus to his rest
Beside the waters of the west;
And seek some sweet secluded spot,
Forgetting all - by all forgot;
And there in some sequestered nook
I'll write some babble of a book,
In Connaught prose - perhaps in rhyme -
To while away the weary time.
This is the way, sir, I intend
The remnant of my life to spend,
Hid in some glen among the hills,
Far from the Force and Poteen Stills.
But if the Fates, as heretofore,
Should ever send you on a tour,
To Westport, Newport, or the West -
Most certainly I'll do my best,
And by some slight of magic try,
On you once more to feast my eye.
I'll choose some hidden, private nook
To take one last, and long, fond,look
At one who served me in the end
And proved a true and sterling friend.
May you be happy, is my prayer,
And free from every cross and care.
Enjoying life and all its joys,
And able long to drill your boys.
I almost fancied I was young,
The moment that I heard your tongue -
"Direct the columns to prepare
To meet the cavalry in square."
And nearly cursed my shaky shanks
That kept me from your Royal ranks.
Enough! enough, the wish is vane.
I never more can serve again,
Nor can I write - it would be rude
Upon your moments to intrude
My last best wishes I impart -
The tribute of a grateful heart.
I can no further favours claim.
So with respect I sign my name.
         
Andrew Carolan 3263
Constable and Poet
Buncrana, 20th October, 1873