School: The Downs (roll number 8875)

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1. An Old Song (continued)

   “My feet are here on broadway, Here this Blessed harvest morn,”

   

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   Her eyes were soft and sorrowful,
   Like sunbeams on the sea,
   Her name was Mary Dwyer,
   But that being long ago,
   The ways of God are wiser still,
   And things that man may know.
   She died the year I left her,
   With broken heart atone
   But we best forget the days we met,
   By the Old Bog Road.
   My mother died last Springtide,
   When Ireland's fields were green,
   The neighbours said her waking
   was the finest ever seen.
   There was snowdrops and primroses
   Piled up all around her bed,
   And Fern's church was crowded,
   When her funeral was said,
   But here was I on broadway,
   Building bricks bu load,
   When the carried out her coffin,
   From the Old Bog Road.
   This life is a weary puzzle,
   Pass find the out for man,
   I take the day for what its worth,
   And do the best I can,
   Since noone cares a rush for me,

   (continues on next page)

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

   Topics

   1. activities
      1. economic activities
         1. agriculture (~2,659)
   2. products
      1. food products (~3,601)

   Language

   English

   Collector

   Annie Cleary

   Gender

   Female

   Address

   The Downs, Co. Westmeath

   Informant

   Christopher Monaghan

   Gender

   Male

   Age

   38

   Address

   The Downs, Co. Westmeath