Marry Me, Darlint, To-night

Mc darliat, il'saxin' they are Hint I jíoes lo the wars to be kilt, Au' come back wld an iligant shknr Au' a sabré hung ou to a hilt. They oirers promotion to those Wlio die In defluse of the risjht, ['11 beolï'in the inornin' - supposp Ye marry rao, darliut to-ulghl ? f here's notbin' so raises a man, In tlieeyes of the wnrrld as to fall fernist the oukl üm, In the van, Pierced through wid a bit of a ball. An' whln I am kilt ye can wear ome llllgant crape on yir bonnet Jlst think how the omen will stitare Wid invy whiniver ye don it! Oh, fwat a proud wlddy ye'll bé Whin they bring me carpse lioine, -nol to inention Tliefact we can live (don 't yesee?) All the rest of our liyes on mepiuslon!