bog-pumper

Yeah. Those bastids.

Oh, daffodils are always going on about something.

a shame about those daffodils getting so upset . . .

Lament for Thomas MacDonagh

By Francis Ledwidge


HE SHALL not hear the bittern cry
In the wild sky, where he is lain,
Nor voices of the sweeter birds,
Above the wailing of the rain.

Nor shall he know when loud March blows 5
Thro’ slanting snows her fanfare shrill,
Blowing to flame the golden cup
Of many an upset daffodil.

But when the Dark Cow leaves the moor,
And pastures poor with greedy weeds, 10
Perhaps he’ll hear her low at morn,
Lifting her horn in pleasant meads.

"He shall not hear the bog-pumper cry .." doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?

Oh dear. What a horrible name for a nice birdie.

I figured this referred to one of those trucks that comes to service the portable toilets. We used to call them ... well, it's kind of rude.

Obsolete name for the American Bittern.