Bernard Cavanagh
The Irish Cameleon
Bernard Cavanagh is the name of a person who is now raising considerable sums of money in Dublin by professing to work miracles—the greatest of them all consisting in his ability to live without any food whatever—which he is now said to have done for several months. Crowds flock to him to be cured of their lameness, deafness, &c.
—Irish Papers.
Marvellous Erin! when St. Patrick’s feat
Thy hills, vales, plains, and bogs from reptiles freed,
He little dream’d what monsters would succeed;
Sinners who drink not, saints who never eat!
And is there one, in whom the piece of meat
Which Paris raves about, no care can breed!
One who can never know a time of need,
Though corn be trampled by the tempest’s feet!
Poor fellow! what enjoyment he foregoes!
Nothing but air, a scrap of summer cloud,
Fog with the chill off, is to him allow’d;
A fine thick mist, or rainbow when it shows;
But ah! for him no kitchen’s steam up-flows;
No knives, forks, spoons, or plates, a pilèd crowd,
No dishes, glasses, salts, make music loud!
Sad sinecurists all—mouth, ears, and nose!