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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
And the sarvints was freckened, and didn' go near,
But they heard the misthress on the stair
Lek staggerin' lek—and then—no more,
Not even a foot upon the floor—
And sat up for Cain: but he didn' come in
Till daylight, and blew about with the wind,
They were sayin', rather, and up to bed—
And there was the misthress lyin' dead!
She was lyin' dead. Pison? yes!
A mug of it upon the chiss —
Pison, though—poor thing! she was gone
To the happy place, where it's all one—
Prepared? aw dear! what is prepared?
And the ould murderer stood and stared!
And he shouted? Yes, enough for three!
Shouted—but not immadiently.
No, no; but aisy! wait, then, wait!
Don't get 'cited, at any rate!
But they heard the misthress on the stair
Lek staggerin' lek—and then—no more,
Not even a foot upon the floor—
And sat up for Cain: but he didn' come in
Till daylight, and blew about with the wind,
They were sayin', rather, and up to bed—
And there was the misthress lyin' dead!
She was lyin' dead. Pison? yes!
A mug of it upon the chiss —
Pison, though—poor thing! she was gone
To the happy place, where it's all one—
Prepared? aw dear! what is prepared?
And the ould murderer stood and stared!
And he shouted? Yes, enough for three!
Shouted—but not immadiently.
No, no; but aisy! wait, then, wait!
Don't get 'cited, at any rate!
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |