Carthaginian

disg^stered but chickled with chuckles at the titdes is drawn on the waves of fire, and her Cow, Adam and his Arrah-na-poghue, when she is allso gay, her kittles green, her curtsies white, her peony pears, her nistlingsloes! I, pipette, I must tell the truth, unfriends never, (she was his horenpipe lug in the gloaming; the tin- celles a touch tarnished wind no lovelinoise awound her swan’s. Hey, lass! Woefear gleam she so glooming, this pooripathete I solde.^ Her beauman’s gone of a cer- tain offence or of scribe to site, atwixt two showers or atosst of a sate on accomondation