Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.
By Songs and Ballads. IV. Home to CarrigleaEllen OLeary (18311889)
M
For I have news to tell:
I met a friend, a dear old friend—
We’ve known him long and well;
When you were but a toddling babe
He danced you on his knee;
But oh! ’twas in the good old times,
At home in Carriglea.
As I was toiling on
With drooping heart and flagging steps,
His mild glance on me shone;
His voice seemed like an angel’s voice,
With such sweet sympathy
He talked of all the good old times
At home in Carriglea.
His kind eyes filled with tears,
To see me look so thin and wan
After those weary years;
And gazing in his face I thought
I ne’er had crossed the sea,
But still was playing hide and seek
At home in Carriglea.
And the little stream close by,
Where oft we watched the young brikeens
Or paddled on the sly;
Or in the sunny summer days
Climbed up the old oak tree;
Oh! we were happy children then,
At home in Carriglea.
My mother’s hands would rest,
She’d pat each sunburnt, rosy cheek,
And press us to her breast;
You, Noney dear, when tired of play,
Would nestle lovingly
Within her tender sheltering arms
At home in Carriglea.
There came a woeful change,
Dear mother, always sad and pale,
Poor father wild and strange,—
He’d rave of cruel landlords,
And curse their tyranny.
His proud heart broke, the day he left
His home in Carriglea.
My mother faded, too;
And as I watched her hour by hour
More and more weak she grew;
The night she died, she blessed us both
So sadly, tenderly,
That all the kindly neighbours wept
At home in Carriglea.
Who, in the hour of need,
Thronged round the lonely orphan girls.
Oh! they were friends indeed:
And he, the truest, kindest, best,
Has come across the sea,
To take a wife and sister home—
Home, home to Carriglea.