For The Years, He Felt, Had Not

Fall If You Will, But Rise You Must.

His Heart Danced Upon Her Movement Like A Cork Upon A Tide.

No Pen, No Ink, No Table, No Room, No Time, No Quiet, No Inclination.

It Seems To Me You Do Not Care What Banality A Man Expresses So Long As He Expresses It In Irish.

And When All Was Said And Done The Lies A Fellow Told About Himself Couldn't Probably Hold A Proverbial Candle To The Wholesale Whoppers Other Fellows Coined About Him.