About twenty years ago there lived a famous poet. His name was Terence Boyle. He was about seventy years old when he died. He sold is farm and went to America with his wife an children.
The following is some of his poetry:-
When old Billy Crosbie came to the seat of glandore
He was greeted with honour and banners all o'er
He led a good life from the day of his birth
He died in Calone and was buired in the earth
One bad day he met a man breaking stones. The man had a bag on his head from the rain. The poet said to him
Good morrow John your lingering on
Your sack is long and narrow
I dare say you will drink you tay
When you go done to Banna