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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Now Nessy was a gel that had got
A good head on her shouldhers, whether or not.
She was puttin' very pretty talk urrov her;
But thinkin' her aunt was nobbier far
Till her; lek much more spicier;
Lek up-to-the-rigs. And, you never can tell,
There's a bit of the divil in every gel—
Aw, there's no mistake they've gorrit,
Yes, they have, and bless them for it!
A good head on her shouldhers, whether or not.
She was puttin' very pretty talk urrov her;
But thinkin' her aunt was nobbier far
Till her; lek much more spicier;
Lek up-to-the-rigs. And, you never can tell,
There's a bit of the divil in every gel—
Aw, there's no mistake they've gorrit,
Yes, they have, and bless them for it!
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |