Friday, September 8, 2017

Brook the Brunt

Return, return from whence you came
He’s not the one that you should blame
If loathe you here the life you bear
Then leave.  I’ll love him.  This I swear.

For you’ve been given life that’s well
Your home, this land in which you dwell
He’s not the one should brook the brunt
Or slave as if he were your grunt

So rid yourself of country wide
And steadfast by him I’ll abide
You oughtn’t have had him anyway
No longer must you us delay


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