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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
307
To spin it out, to coax it to stay—
Lek all that was ever like to be—
And it made him as peaceful there, and free—
Bless your sowl! he was gettin' quite kind
To the misthress even, lek he'd made up his mind
Lek all to be happy like in a story,
Lek Nelly'd got them up to glory,
Nor where, nor when, nor how, nor who—
And the misthress to be in it too.
But who and how, and where and when,
Must have an answer, must, my men.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |