The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer; May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair, And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year. That parboiled ape, with the toughest jaw you will see On virtue's path, and a voice that would rasp the dead, Came roaring and raging the minute she looked at me, And threw me out of the house on the back of my head! If I asked her master he'd give me a cask a day; But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange! May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE SHIRT by THOMAS HOOD ITALY SWEET TOO! by JOHN KEATS SONNET: 9 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 1. THE MARVELLOUS SEED OF LOVE by PHILIP AYRES CAPTAIN MORROW'S THANKSGIVING by LILLIE E. BARR EPITAPH FOR GAVIN HAMILTON by ROBERT BURNS |