Don’t think that my singin’
It’s wrong to be flingin’
Forninst av the dreams that the Angels are bringin’;
For if your pure spirit
Might waken and hear it,
You’d never be draamin’ the Saints could come near it!
Then lave off your slaapin’—
The pulse av me’s laapin’
To have the two eyes av yez down on me paapin’.
Och, Nora! It’s hopin’