Thomas Augustine Daly Poems

Da spreeng ees com'! but oh, da joy
   Eet ees too late!
He was so cold, my leetla boy,
   He no could wait.
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All weenter-time I work for deeg
Da tranch een ceety street,
An’ I am looka like da peeg
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GIUSEPPE, da barber, ees greata for 'mash,'
He gotta da bigga, da blacka mustache,
Good clo'es an' good styla an' playnta good cash.
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I GOTTA lov' for Angela,
I lov' Carlotta, too.
I no can marry both o' dem,
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To-day ees com' from Eetaly
   A boy ees leeve een Rome,
An' he ees stop an' speak weeth me --
   I weesh he stay at home.
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Beeg Irish cop dat walk hees beat
By den peanutta stan’,
First two, t’ree week w’en we are meet
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Giacobbe Finelli so funny, O! My!
By tweestin’ hees face an’ by weenkin’ hees eye
He maka you laugh teell you theenk you weell die.
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