A thousand more verses | ||
And he went and took lessons here—there—anywhere—
And his teachers all stuck in the bogs of despair;
But he said, “I'll kape on for the shtrings to talk right,
Till the cows all come home an' die during the night:”
And I says to my frind “I'm afeared ivery day,
That the tune the old cow died on's all ye'll e'er play:”
But he worked and he scraped what the house would endure,
In a way would have murdhred poor Rory O'More.
And his teachers all stuck in the bogs of despair;
81
Till the cows all come home an' die during the night:”
And I says to my frind “I'm afeared ivery day,
That the tune the old cow died on's all ye'll e'er play:”
But he worked and he scraped what the house would endure,
In a way would have murdhred poor Rory O'More.
A thousand more verses | ||