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AND OTHER POEMS
83
The very straws may wrangle till they've thrown down the stack;
The very door-posts bicker till they've pulled in the door,
The very ale-jars jostle till the ale is on the floor,
But this shall help no further.
[He throws Helmet into the sea]
Laegaire's Wife
And so you would let none wear it, but fling it away instead.
Conall's Wife