Classic Poem

Yesterday travelling Connacht,
Drogheda has me to-day;
My back to the empty pockets,
My face to the place will pay!

Just roving around,
To my grief and my sorrow,
Under a rock to-day,
Under a bush to-morrow.

Syrupy sweet to-day,
Sour as sloes to-morrow;
Sweet to the lads that pay,
Sour to the lads that borrow!