 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
For Harry would fall asleep, the baste,
And a big slop of a smile all over his face,
And snore like the roots of ragin' thundher;
And Nessy vexed, and 'deed no wondher;
That was used of the ould man's hollabaloo,
But didn' like Harry's. And “I'll go too,”
She'd say; and the loud this Harry roort
It raelly wasn' fit to coort—
You know the ter'ble distressin' it is.
So Jack to get some surt of a kiss,
Very skim-milky, very cowld!
And wakes up Harry, and off, poor sowl!
And a big slop of a smile all over his face,
And snore like the roots of ragin' thundher;
And Nessy vexed, and 'deed no wondher;
That was used of the ould man's hollabaloo,
But didn' like Harry's. And “I'll go too,”
She'd say; and the loud this Harry roort
It raelly wasn' fit to coort—
You know the ter'ble distressin' it is.
So Jack to get some surt of a kiss,
Very skim-milky, very cowld!
And wakes up Harry, and off, poor sowl!
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |