Scoil: Tullogher, Ros Mhic Treoin (uimhir rolla 14648)
- Suíomh:
- Tulachar, Co. Chill Chainnigh
- Múinteoir: Mrs Winnie Murphy
Sonraí oscailte
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Ar an leathanach seo
- There was a poet in fever sick,
His case was unconsoling,
His wife and children round him sat,
In bitter grief condoling. Their sighs and tears had no effect,
From his complaint to free him,
And what was worse his nearest friends
Could not come in to see him.The doctor he came in post-haste,
No man could he go faster,
With all his "nosrums" in a sack,
And plenty oil of castor.But when he saw the dying man
Stretched out for death before him,
He swore "begob; that all his wits
To life could not restore him............(There is a verse missing here.)And when the meat it was brought in
The pot is was got ready,
To pick a bone and drink some broth,
Up jumps poor lifeless Neddy.The meat it was so very good,
And it had such a flavour,X Author of this ballad - Neddy Anderson, a local poet, native of Lukeswell, Mullinavat, Co Kilkenny.(leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)