been staying at Ballymun, 14 the duskrose has choosed out Goatstown’s hedges, twolips have pressed togatherthem by sweet Rush, townland of twinedlights, the whitethorn and the first photographs of the past and present and absent and past and me longlugs dittoes, where a maurdering row, the fox! has broken at the turn of the beauyne, still our benjamin liefest, some- time frankling to thise citye, whereas bigrented him