An Irish Song
Poor Molly O'Flannagan (Lord rest her soul!) Drank so deeply of whiskey, 'twas thought she would die; Her fond lover, Pat, from her nate cabin stole, And stepp'd into Dublin to buy her a pie. Oh! poor Molly O'Flannagan! Tho' chin-deep in sorrow, yet fun he lov'd well; A pie-man pass'd near, crying "Pies" at his aise; "Here are pies of all sorts." - "Oh! if all sorts you sell, Then a twopenny magpie for me, if you plaise!" Oh! poor Molly O'Flannagan!
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"Poor Molly O'Flannagan (Lord rest her soul!)..."
"An Irish Song" is a quintessential example of John Carr (Sir)'s signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...