Joseph Charles Kennedy

[X. J Kennedy]


Old tumbril rolling with me till I die,
Divided face I'm hung with, hindside-to,
How can a peace be drawn between us, who
Never see eye to eye?

Why, when it seems I speak straight from the heart
Most solemn thought, do you too have to speak,
Let out a horselaugh, whistle as I break
The news to Mother that I must depart?

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