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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
It'd be on the stroke of three
When they fetched his lodgin'—not a light to see,
Nor nothin', and all of them in bed;
But a-side of the house a little shed,
For tools and the lek, and not even a door in,
And just a push, and left him snoorin';
And home, and the father in bed since seven,
And thinkin' she wouldn' be after eleven,
But was for all; but navar knew—
Aw, an aisy ould chap was Jemmy Brew.
When they fetched his lodgin'—not a light to see,
Nor nothin', and all of them in bed;
But a-side of the house a little shed,
For tools and the lek, and not even a door in,
And just a push, and left him snoorin';
And home, and the father in bed since seven,
And thinkin' she wouldn' be after eleven,
But was for all; but navar knew—
Aw, an aisy ould chap was Jemmy Brew.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |