Tuesday, January 16, 2018 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

Helen Blackwood

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I'm bidding you a long farewell,
My Mary, kind and true,
But I'll not forget you, darling,
In the land I'm going 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.

 
Helen Blackwood

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'Now it is turning into words again faint but clear Lest the awe should dwell And turn your frolic to fret You shall look on my power at the helping hour But then you shall forget! Now the reeds take it up forget, forget, they sigh, and it dies away in a rustle and a whisper. Then the voice returns
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