An’ shure, me lad, ‘t is bleedin’;
But come, me hearty laddy buck, be brave an’ do not cry;
A lad that’s learnin’ readin’ sh’u'd be far beyant the heedin’
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An’ I’d die t’ aise the achin’ Whin ye feel yer hearrt a-brealdn’, But, ah! the poor ould woman won’t be there t’ comfort ye.very good poem. to ny