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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Comin', I tell ye, and the sun was set,
And the moon was rose, but hidin' yet
Aback o' Slieu Lhean, that was throwin' a shaddhar
Ter'ble black below me. The Laddhar
They're callin' that slope. And I had to steer
Middlin' careful, you know, to clear
The Dragon's den. So—no humbuggin'!
I thought I heard a despard tuggin',
No thrashin', no smashin', no click o' the clogs,
No trampin' like bulls, no raggin' like dogs,
But ugh-ugh-ugh, like the chaps is goin'
When they're workin' a blast-hole—it's lekly you're knowin'—
Ugh-ugh-ugh—I didn' lek it,
I tell ye, at all—how could you expeck it?
How did I know that it wasn' bogganes,
That's after takin' up these glens,
Or the ould chap himself with some of his friends
Agate of their shindies—aw, might have been,
Might! But I crep' a bit nearer, and seen
There was two of them arrit; and the nearer I crep'—
Harry! Jack!
And the moon was rose, but hidin' yet
Aback o' Slieu Lhean, that was throwin' a shaddhar
Ter'ble black below me. The Laddhar
They're callin' that slope. And I had to steer
Middlin' careful, you know, to clear
The Dragon's den. So—no humbuggin'!
I thought I heard a despard tuggin',
No thrashin', no smashin', no click o' the clogs,
No trampin' like bulls, no raggin' like dogs,
But ugh-ugh-ugh, like the chaps is goin'
When they're workin' a blast-hole—it's lekly you're knowin'—
Ugh-ugh-ugh—I didn' lek it,
I tell ye, at all—how could you expeck it?
How did I know that it wasn' bogganes,
That's after takin' up these glens,
Or the ould chap himself with some of his friends
Agate of their shindies—aw, might have been,
Might! But I crep' a bit nearer, and seen
There was two of them arrit; and the nearer I crep'—
Harry! Jack!
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |