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To: Soaring Feather

and now for a bit of Irish poetry

It were in da dark around Black Rock hit be,
along da moonless nights on da Irish Sea,
where smugglers took out ta kegs o whiskey
‘n brought hin French crates ‘o guns ya see

Fearing ta chance ‘o a watching Orange spy
ta coast we’d ‘unt fer day an’ night
ta prevent them a taking all wit sword or lie
we’d stand ta keep our bloody Irish Rights

Damn ta English King, ‘n damn ‘is lies
fer ‘e’s not mine ‘n on dat I swears
its ta many who ‘as lost hall ‘n died
‘n freedom’s fer ‘im who ‘as guts ta dare!


382 posted on 06/06/2008 1:19:47 PM PDT by WayzataJOHNN ( Poetry is the jazz of words, laid down by a feeling soul.)
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To: WayzataJOHNN

Awww, good ol’ Irish Poetry! Good to see you too, my friend.

w00t!


384 posted on 06/06/2008 1:40:26 PM PDT by Soaring Feather (I soar- 'cause I can...)
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