| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
262 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
I thank you for the patient smile
When your heart was fit to break, When the hunger-pain was gnawin' there,
And you hid it for my sake; I bless you for the pleasant word
When your heart was sad and sore — Oh ! I'm thankful you are gone, Mary,
Where grief can't reach you more !
I'm biddin' you a long farewell,
My Mary—kind and true ! But I'll not forget you, darling,
In the land I'm goin' to: They say there's bread and work for all,
And the sun shines always there — But I'll not forget Old Ireland,
Were it fifty times as fair !
And often in those grand old woods
I'll sit and shut my eyes, And my heart will travel back again
To the place where Mary lies ; And I'll think I see the little stile
Where we sat side by side, And the springin' corn, and the bright May morn,
When first you were my bride. |
||
|
|
||