Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe,
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it: the marble eyelids are not wet;
If it could weep, it could arise and go.
HELEN SELINA, LADY DUFFERIN
1807-1867
114. Lament of the Irish Emigrant
I’m sittin’ on the stile, Mary,
Where we sat side by side