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34Q THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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MRS. W. SKRINE
"Moira O'Neill" CORRYMEELA
O
VER here in England I'm helpin' wi' the hay, An' I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day; Weary on the English hay, an' sorra take the wheat! Och ! Corrymeela an' the blue sky over it.
There's a deep dumb river flowin' by beyont the heavy
trees, This livin' air is moithered wi' the hummin' o' the
bees; I wisht I'd hear the Claddagh burn go runnin' through
the heat Past Corrymeela wi' the blue sky over it.
The people that's in England is richer nor the Jews, There's not the smallest young gossoon but thravels
in his shoes ! I'd give the pipe between me teeth to see a barefut
child, Och / Corrymeela ari the low south wind.
Here's hands so full o' money an' hearts so full o'
care, By the luck o' love! I'd still go light for all I did go
bare. |
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