Corrymeela (Moira O Neill Poems)
OVER here in England I'm helpin' wi' the hay, And I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day; Weary on the ...
OVER here in England I'm helpin' wi' the hay, And I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day; Weary on the ...
"Wisha, where is he goin' to now With the hat on the back of the poll.And the hair of him curled ...
TIM Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill,O chone!If I was her muther, I'd frown on sich foolin',O chone!I'm sure its ...
Can you not hear me knocking at midnight on your door?Can you not see my shadow cast on your moonlit ...
'Twas down by the glenside,I met an old woman,A'plucking young nettles,Nor thought I was coming;I listened awhileTo the song she ...
I'm walking backwards for Christmas,Across the Irish Sea,I'm walking backwards for Christmas,It's the only thing for me.I've tried walking sideways,And ...
There's a colleen fair as May, For a year and for a day, I've sought by every way her heart to gainThere's ...
OH! Dermot Astore! between waking and sleepingI heard thy dear voice, and I wept to its lay;Every pulse of my ...
(To Caroline Augusta Hopper)'Tis I go fiddling, fiddling,By weedy ways forlorn;I make the blackbird's musicEre in his breast 'tis born:The ...
Let the Statesman swarm like bees, At Receptions and Levees, And Diplomats the drawing-room adorn; Let Patriots grow gray, ...
Oh my heart beat high with joy elate,When Danny rode in the Hunters' PlateOn Enniskillen, the raking grey-A mighty jumper, ...
Her hair was dark and curly, floatin' to the saddle bow,Her laugh was frank and girlish, and her voice was ...
One morning, when dreaming in deep meditation, I met a sweet colleen a-making her moan. With sighing and sobbing she ...
The fairies, the fairies, the mischief-loving fairies, Have stolen my loved one, my darling, and my dear; With charms and ...
My love has kissed me on the lips an' sailed beyond the sea, An', sooth, that was a sorry day ...
The Irishman loves his fair Colleen,No doubt she is witty and pretty,But in Ireland I have never been,So can't judge ...
IT'S a lonely road through bogland to the lake at Carrowmore, And a sleeper there lies dreaming where the water ...
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