by Arthur Stringer
W ID a jorum wanst under me arm, faith, the thought av it
Could warm me almost as though I had drunk down the lot av it!
Me mind could half burn wid the fire av it;
Widout all the sting and the tire av it
I'd swim wid the dream and desire av it!
When down be ould Donnievale Wall I sat waitin' and dreamin'
'Twasn't her when she came; 'twas the watchin' and longin' and seemin'!
'Tis love, says I, but you tire av it;
'Tis only in dream the desire av it
Outstays both the ache and the fire av it!
But now that I've wasted and lived through the last av it,
Aye, now that it's lost, how I dream av the past av it!
For broodin' av Death, and the dire av it,
I'd now face Hell and the fire av it,
For me ould mad youth and the mire av it!
Last updated January 14, 2019