This he did and nothing more.
“Now,” said I, the shape addressing, “don’t you think ’twould be a blessing
If this Anglo-Irish conflict coming down from days of yore—
If this age-long woe and sadness could be changed to peace and gladness
And the holy ties of friendship could be knit from shore to shore
And no words but words of kindness pass across from shore to shore!”—
Quoth the lank one, “Tullamore.”
At this word I marvelled truly, for it seemed to come unduly
As a misplaced exhibition of his geographic lore;
So my thread of thought resuming, I said, “There are dangers looming