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Poem by Francis Ledwidge
I was just coming in from the garden, Or about to go fishing for eels, And, smiling, I asked you to pardon My boots very low at the heels. And I thought that you never would go, As you stood in the doorway ajar, For my heart would keep saying, 'Old Clo', You're found out at last as you are.' I was almost ashamed to acknowledge That I was the quarry you sought, For was I not bred in a college And reared in a mansion, you thought. And now in the latest style cut With fortune more kinder I go To welcome you half-ways. Ah ( but I was nearer the gods when ' Old Clo'.'
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