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6677.
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The Boy Who Was Dunce
As a boy he was not known to be clever one of the dullest in
his primary school
And it has been said that he was one who often sat on the dunce's stool
But he grew up to be a genius to his primary school class mates a surprise
He became a world famous physician and a winner of the Nobel
Prize.
He discovered the theory of relativity how all living things to each other relate
The boy who was dunce of the class room as a man had achieved something great
When people mention the name of Einstein it is not of the school dunce they speak
But of a man who achieved greatness the world's cleverest at
his peak.
The story about Albert Einstein is a story many seem to know
Of how the boy who was dunce of the classroom into a great genius did grow
Since his death back in the mid fifties a legend has grown around his name
The boy who was dunce of the classroom lives on now in the hall of fame.
The story of the life of Einstein has been re-told again and
again
The boy who is dunce of the class room a dunce may not always remain
In his primary schooldays the young Albert Einstein in his
studies was lagging behind
The one now seen as one of the great thinkers in the history
of human kind.
The boy who was dunce of the classroom worked hard till success came his way
And his life time of work did not die with him it is still seen as important today
The climb up life's hill is a hard climb and you do not give up when you fall
And in the great story of Einstein there is a lesson for us all.
Francis Duggan
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6678.
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The Boys And Girls
The boys and girls I grew up with I may not see again
Quite young in my memory they ever remain
But I may not know them now were we to meet
We'd pass by as strangers on the big Town street
Some of the boys and girls I grew up with in eternal rest lay
They did not live on to slowly fade away
As old people do when their lives near an end
Us humans are mere mortals why otherwise pretend
Is there more to life than our desire for success
Than to live through seven decades of worry and stress
The boys and girls I grew up with remain young in my memory today
But like me they would look older time on us all does tick away
And if I met them today them I may not know
We may pass on the street without saying hello.
Francis Duggan
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6679.
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The Boys I Went To School With
We played football in the school yard and we swam in the Finnow
But the years go by so quickly and to father time we bow
And the boys I went to school with perhaps now looking gray
And many of them from the Homeland shore like me live far away.
Many of the boys I went to school with and that's going back more than four decades in time
Are now ageing grand fathers and years beyond their prime
And those legs that could move so quickly some forty years ago
Now feeling tired and heavy and their fastest pace is slow.
The boys I went to school with have known a better day
And that time takes care of everyone it would be fair to say
Our young years went too quickly and time just flitted by
And on looking back it seems like only yesterday when I was a school boy.
Some of the boys I went to school with to the grim reaper have gone
But life back in the old Hometown as usual carries on
And in the fields near Millstreet Town where the rank rushes grow
The Finnow on towards Drishane and the Blackwater flow.
Most of the boys I went to school with I have not seen for years
But for my fading memories I don't have any tears
We played football in the school yard and in Summer swam in the Finnow
But the years go by so quickly and to father time we bow.
Francis Duggan
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6680.
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The Brave Willy Wagtail Sings All Through The Year
Late April in the Southern Fall does seem far from the Spring
But in the sunlit Townpark willy wagtail does sing
Australia's black and white fantail brave and cheeky for his size
To see him challenge birds as big as magpies is never a surprise
His unmistakeable song is one I often do hear
The brave willy wagtail sings all through the year
And on tree in the Parkland in the dim moonlight
I've often heard him singing in the stillness of the night
To owls and hawks and cats who on small birds do prey
His kind are in danger by night and by day
But to Nature's survivors willy wagtails belong
As the lust for survival in their kind is strong
A bird one cannot mistake by his song or his call
Sings in the Townpark in the cool of the Fall.
Francis Duggan
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