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Poem by Anonymous


Limerick. “There was a young curate of Minster…”


There was a young curate of Minster, 
Who admonished a giddy young spinster.
	For she used, on the ice, 
	Words not at all nice 
When he, at a turn, slid against her.



Anonymous


Anonymous's other poems:
  1. The Aisle of Tombs
  2. The Flower of Yarrow
  3. My Wife Has Ta'en the Gee
  4. Carlisle Yetts
  5. Glashen-Glora


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