<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415497" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>McTaggart</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A real horse of a man McTaggart <br>Called him nineteen hands high, <br>With shoulders like a barn door, <br>Town lands champion, miser and horse doctor.<br>Focus of all the neighborhood shallow gossip, <br>Uncle Eddy strode Brucha’s rushy aches alone <br>for eighty years to outlive them all, <br>Unschooled and illerate, a product of lean times, <br>He could guide a team of Clydesdales at twelve, <br>At fifteen a man.<br>He bought his first suit with rabbits snared on the loch shore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rebuffed a sullen parish admired his feats from a safe distance, <br>Fearing the hard honesty, the cold stare.<br>As when he mowed all night in the wet meadow, <br>lifted a trap across his bare shoulders, <br>broke stallions or drove a herd of bullocks to the Moy Fair alone.<br>Well able for pestering clergy, <br>Friendless and womanless all his life, <br>He christened the great bays, Tom and Ned</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Laid out two policemen at Finigan’s republican funeral, they said.<br>Finally as lawyers and priests came to count his money, <br>And the whole parish waited triumphantly for his final feat.<br>He chased doctors and priests from his deathbed.<br>Wanting only that the workman bring the horses to the window so that he could see them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Feb 9th,2011</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Bredin">James Bredin</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415497" data-title="McTaggart de James Bredin" data-description="A real horse of a man McTaggart Called him nineteen hands high, With shoulders like a barn door, Town lands champion, miser and horse doctor. Focus of all the neighborhood shallow gossip, Uncle Eddy strode Brucha’s rushy aches alone for eig..."></div> </div> </div>

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