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Leaving Ballymaroon At fairst laight I toil'd ower the misty moorlands whare I was borne with eyes and dreams to the western sea. I strove from the stragh piles and dung and throd the rickety rood past Roscommon towne whare the Wee Folk sang and tootled theer fluits in days of owld and tinkers plied in rickety cyarts. 'Twas naythur to steal dreems nor beg of days long pass't from that ghostie place I parted-- nor to finger me way amaing yeer lassies faire. Raythur t'was meerly the craythur needed I for to kape both botty and sowl from sunderin. Let's have that one carven onto me stoan then luv, and lave new days to those yet innocent. |
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Hibernian Poems
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