Conference tallis::celt

409.0. "IRELAND" by DPDMAI::BEAN (free at last...FREE AT LAST!!) Fri Jul 15 1988 05:48

		IRELAND

Oh, Ireland! What have you done to me,
	But stolen my heart away!
With beauty and charm and gallantry
	And courage - and "cups o' tay"!

Your soul must be that of a woman, dear land,
	For you're sweet and fickle and kind -
And none but your own can understand
	Your moods, and your changing mind.

Yet yours is the charm of maturity,
	For age speaks from shore to shores:
Oh, it is a wondrous security
	For a land to have history like yours.

Yes, Ireland, your spell has captured me,
	And my heart is heavy at rest;
For alas, I must soon bid farewell to thee
	And sail for my land in the west.

When I think how I've longed for this time to come -
	America's spell is strong:
For oft have I heard, like a rolling drum
	Her call - yet the time was long,

And her vigorous spell has worn away,
	While your subtle, softer charm
Is binding me faster, day by day
	With a love both true and warm.

Oh, Ireland!  I've known what lonely means,
	And I'll know its pangs once more,
When I bid goodby to your lovely scenes
	And sail for my western shore.

No souvenir will I have of you
	Save the love that always gleams;
But I'll pray to the Irish saints above
	For memories, and dreams.



My mother wrote this poem when she was a young woman after returning to
her childhood home near Timahoe.  The year was probably in the late 1930's.

Her maiden name is Philomena Byrne.  Her father John F. Byrne grew up with 
James Joyce in Dublin City, and was Joyce's CRANLY.

Mom is now 72 and this weekend is returning to Ireland again.  I hope she 
have many more happy visits there.

Tony Bean

    Leaprechauns enjoyed that.
    
    
     Thank you Tony, there is a something nice in notefiles every so
    often and this is one of those. I hope your mother enjoys her trip
    and that all the hopes and expectations are realised for her journey.
    
    Snakes can be sentimental too.
    

    A couple of weeks ago I took a friend home to Ireland. This poem
    speaks about the cups of TAY - the one thing that he hated at the
    start and was even worse than us for drinking it when he was leaving.
    
    Teresa.

    
    That was beautiful Tony, thanks!! I also hope she enjoys her
    trip.....after writing such feelings, I have no doubt she will!
    
    Declan

    
    by the way, what was Joyce's CRANLY? I've read his stories but I
    don't recall that
    
    Declan

    Cranly was a character in A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN,
    and also in STEPHEN HERO.  A Portrait was published in 1916 by Huebsch.
    
    I'd previously (erroneously) said cranly was a character in Ulysses.
    
    Tony