III

"There was just one sweet potato.

He was golden brown and slim.

The lady loved his dancing,

The lady loved his dancing,

The lady loved his dancing,

She danced all night with him,

She danced all night with him.

Alas, he wasn't Irish.

So when she flew away,

They threw him in the coal-bin,

And there he is today,

Where they cannot hear his sighs

And his weeping for the lady,

The glorious Irish lady,

The beauteous Irish lady,

Who

Gives

Potatoes

Eyes."

The Chinese Nightingale, and Other Poems · 第 65 / 75 题