Available under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)
Note: We will soon deprecate our XML Application Programming Interface and a new, comprehensive JSON API will be made available. Keep an eye on our website for further details.
On this page
- Lines addressed by Philip Danaher of Moyreen to his niece a Sister of Mercy at Kilrush.1
"To grant thy wish, I court the muse,
And sweep my lyre again,
My cherished Niece, I can't refuse,
This last poetic strain,
Of olden times when life was young,
In that dear home of thine,
Where we together often sung,
The days of auld Lang Syne.
Full many a year since then has flown,
With joy and sorrow blent,
The while from Our Great Father's Throne,
Were chastening trials sent,
And though before life's final close,
The rays of fortune shine,
No future days can equal those,
We spent in Auld Lang Syne.
They converse here is heard no more,
They presence never seen,
But errant fancy will restore,
Each old and happy scene,(continues on next page)Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.