The Good Man

I

M ACKILLRAY was a dour man,
Workin' night and day,
Thryin' to build a grand house,
And frettin' life away.
When he'd built his fine house,
High beyont the furze,
Not a gerrl in Kindree
Sought to make it hers!

II

Larry was a young de'il,
Idlin' youth away,
A-pipin' and philanderin'
And laughin' all the day.

Niver was a colleen
Trod the Kindree sod
But homeless would have fared forth
At homeless Larry's nod!
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