Of one who clambered upward from the shore—
Whose feet with mine kept timin’ as the pair o’ us went climbin’
Long ago that “bohareen” at Ballymore!
[1] “Bohareen,” bypath.
[p 60]
]AN IRISH IDYL
As I stood amid the bracken, as I stood amid the fern,
I could hear the merry bicker, the blithe bicker of the burn.
Bees were hummin’, softly hummin’;
“She ’s a comin’! She ’s a comin’!”