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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
539
Boosely music to be playin'
Lek a surt of accomplamink
To the coortin'—and aisy so to think,
Aisy, natheral; but still
People that's coortin', ye see, they will;
And somethin' to know the ould chap's safe—
I'd rather trust him snorin' than deaf,
'Deed I would. But you wouldn' sundher
From the gel you love for the roots of thundher.
But couldn' help laughin' sometimes—pirry us!
Special Harry, that wasn' that sirrious,
Nor that deep like Jack: but often corrected
At this fellow—Her father must be respected
To his very snore, says Jack, as sollum
As avar ye seen a what-d'ye-call-um.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |