Page:The green helmet and other poems.pdf/63

 If I lived here a hundred years, could a worse thing come than that Laegaire and Conall should know me and bid me begone to my face!

We bid you begone from a house that has fallen on shame and disgrace.

I am losing patience, Conall—I find you stuffed with pride, The flagon full to the brim, the front door standing wide; You'd put me off with words, but the whole thing's plain enough,