 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
“Aw no!” she said, “well no then! no!
Aw, not the ring! but . . . lizzen though!
Lizzen . . . the key of the ould man's chist”
(Her father) . . . “five pound wouldn' be missed
Urrov yandhar lot.” . . . Could she get the key?
And . . . sometime he'd be out of the way . . .
What? Aw, Nessy gave a spring,
And “Take it! take it! take the ring!
For God's sake! take it! take it! take it!
Here! here! will that do? will that make it
All right?” she says; “you'll not wutch him—
Jack, you won't?”—“I'll never touch him,”
Says Mrs. Banks; and she'd come next night
For the other things. So Nessy tuk flight
Like a partridge: and—“She driv me! she driv me!”
And “Mother! mother! forgive me! forgive me!”
Poor Nessy! and all the way she was goin'
She was sighin' and sobbin' and makin' her moan—
“This is love!” she said, “and the nice it'd be
If it wasn' for the misery!”
Aw, not the ring! but . . . lizzen though!
Lizzen . . . the key of the ould man's chist”
(Her father) . . . “five pound wouldn' be missed
Urrov yandhar lot.” . . . Could she get the key?
And . . . sometime he'd be out of the way . . .
What? Aw, Nessy gave a spring,
And “Take it! take it! take the ring!
For God's sake! take it! take it! take it!
Here! here! will that do? will that make it
All right?” she says; “you'll not wutch him—
Jack, you won't?”—“I'll never touch him,”
559
For the other things. So Nessy tuk flight
Like a partridge: and—“She driv me! she driv me!”
And “Mother! mother! forgive me! forgive me!”
Poor Nessy! and all the way she was goin'
She was sighin' and sobbin' and makin' her moan—
“This is love!” she said, “and the nice it'd be
If it wasn' for the misery!”
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |