A LETTER FROM IRELAND.
Copyright, 1886, by Willis Woodward & Co.
'Tis a letter from Ireland from over the sea,
Sure I knew that they would not forget me;
I would have them beside me this minute, if love
And the strength of my purse would but let me.
For 'tis hard to be parted from those we adore,
When we know that our heart's in their keeping;
And day-time and night-time we're wondering if
They re happy and laughing, or weeping.
'Tis a letter from Ireland, directed to me,
Will my heart sink with sorrow, or bound up with glee?
There are tears in my eyes when the post-mark I see
On the letter that comes from ould Ireland.
I have twisted and turned it, and turned it again,
And my feelings were strange, but delighting;
Then I stole in a corner where no one could see,
And I found myself kissing the writing.
For the hand that inscribed it was often in mine,
In the long Winter nights that are missing;
Sure I knew that a pair of sweet lips touched the stamp
So you see I had reasons for kissing.-Chorus.
You are welcome to me as the sun after rain,
Every stroke of the pen brings a blessing;
Yet the letter unopened still lies in my hands,
And at what it contains I am guessing.
Is it love and bright hopes of the future it brings,
Or bears it a message of sorrow?
I'm living in happy uncertainty now,
So the letter may wait 'till to-morrow.-Chorus.