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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
And that's the for this Tommy had
Such girlish ways—oh, very bad!
Just give him a needle and a bit
Of calico, and there he'd sit
In a corner, as happy as a prince,
And the gels goin' on with their imperince,
And—“Are you wantin' a sweetheart, Tommy?”
Poor thing! as innocent as a lammie!
They said, if you'd give him a doll he'd frock it,
But he owned to a pin-cushion in his pocket.
“Where did he come from?” did ye say?
Somewhere over Lough Molla' way;
And a road runnin' in on the opposite side,
A long sort of road that went to Kirk Bride,
And joinin' together, and leadin' down,
And over the bridge, and into the town;
And about a mile, I think it will be,
On the Kirk Bride road there's a path you'll see
Betwix' the brews that the sheep have wore,
And a cart-track leadin' to the shore;
And a pleasant little place they're callin'—
What's this it is now?—aye, “The Vollin”—
And a little house, and a garden to 't,
And a little croft, and a mackarel boat,
And some trees they've planted, but they haven't thriven,
And that's where Nelly Quine was livin'.
Such girlish ways—oh, very bad!
Just give him a needle and a bit
Of calico, and there he'd sit
In a corner, as happy as a prince,
And the gels goin' on with their imperince,
And—“Are you wantin' a sweetheart, Tommy?”
Poor thing! as innocent as a lammie!
They said, if you'd give him a doll he'd frock it,
But he owned to a pin-cushion in his pocket.
“Where did he come from?” did ye say?
Somewhere over Lough Molla' way;
And a road runnin' in on the opposite side,
A long sort of road that went to Kirk Bride,
And joinin' together, and leadin' down,
244
And about a mile, I think it will be,
On the Kirk Bride road there's a path you'll see
Betwix' the brews that the sheep have wore,
And a cart-track leadin' to the shore;
And a pleasant little place they're callin'—
What's this it is now?—aye, “The Vollin”—
And a little house, and a garden to 't,
And a little croft, and a mackarel boat,
And some trees they've planted, but they haven't thriven,
And that's where Nelly Quine was livin'.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |