"You'll lay me there in the gorse, my son,
Where he's waiting for me still;
I could not rest in my churchyard grave
An' him lyin' out on the hill."
OIE'LL VOIRREY.
D'you min' them oul' Oie'll Voirreys with the hollan
all in berries
An' the carvels goin' a singin' on the night?
An' Tommy Danny Quilliam an' quare oul' Juan Illiam
With cannles in their fisses for the light?
An' marchin' up the aisle, singin' sollum all the while
With all the parish listenin' to them there?
An' Pazon smilin' cheerful, but watchin' very keerful,
To keep the wans reminded where they were?
There was teens of cannles blazin', an' all the people gazin',
With Pazon's wans so studdy in the pew.
An' Church all titivated an' tasty decorated,
An' tossed up middlin' stylish at them too.
An' Billy Boyde the Bithig an' Johnny Bob the Kithag,
Them wans was good thremendjus for the chune.
Pretendin' at a loss, jus' to give the choir a toss,
But sthrampin' to be at it very soon.
Wan time that I was workin' away at Cooil-ny-Eairkan,
Gettin' holly with the res' for the day;
So beat I was with slumber, an' carvels such a number,
That down upon the flure I slipped, an' lay.
When I wakened by an' by, the moon was in the sky,
An' all had gone an' lef me on the flure!
The freckened urrov massy! I sweated like any lassie,
Nor dursn't move an inch to rache the dhure!
For everywhere behoul' ye, black shaddas were aroun' me,
Till I was jus' gone fainted with the fear.
An' thrue as I am talkin' I saw them shaddas walkin'
Like keepin' time with chunes I couldn't hear.