Bad Container Of Dog.
Thomas Campbell.

On the banks greens of the Shannon, like Shelagh,
No young Irish man blithe was closely, was therefore happy only I:
Not a Sharpe as mine same himself it could play
Therefore engagement and where they have gone, my bad container of dog was.

When I was finally, you say of my Shelagh of constriction to distribute it,
While that one guarantees to its heart was large,
'OH - your Shelagh is remembered, if a lot, far away
And gusseted pleasantly, expensive mine impasse, to your bad container of dog.'

Poor dog, was reliable and is exited of sure being,
Appreciate constantly and I, although,
When the people saucer-transcendence have mended it far away Thermoses,
It has it a friend in my bad container of dog is always poor.

And the night was if dark since the road were therefore cold
And Slaps and its dog has slept comfortable inert and old
They have been raises to you, than we in my old layer of the Grass
And that it has polecat for company, my bad container of dog.

Although my carry-documents are catty to you, I remembered over its case
Neither my last crust has rejected to its ace resplendence;
But the day of a cold winter is died to my feet,
And has played jackhammers for my bad container of dog.

Where I must - me go? Arms that are left and, I can blind,
To find, for conduct therefore reliable and pleasantly?
Beyond to my aboriginal, soft village until today wide way,
I cannot never return with my bad container of dog.