Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Irish Angling

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Irish Angling.
An Irishman fishing one day in the Liffey, Which runs close by Dublin's great city so fine,A smart shower of rain falling, Pat, in a jiffey, Crept under the arch of the bridge with his line.
"That's never the way to accomplish your wishes," Cries Dermot, "there never a bite will you get.""Sure my honey," cries Pat, "don't you know that the fishes Will swim under here, to keep out of the wet."

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