Silent she was, as the dead are,
And never a cry she made
When there came, more sad than the keening,
The ring of a digging spade.
No rest they gave in the town church,
No grave by the lake so sweet,
But buried her in unholy ground,
Where the four cross roads do meet.
THE BANSHEE: DORA SIGERSON SHORTER
God be between us and all harm,
For I to-night have seen
A banshee in the shadow pass
Along the dark boreen.
And as she went she keened and cried,
And combed her long white hair,
She stopped at Molly Reilly's door,
And sobbed till midnight there.
And is it for himself she moans,
Who is so far away?
Or is it Molly Reilly's death
She cries until the day?
Now Molly thinks her man has gone
A sailor lad to be;
She puts a candle at her door
Each night for him to see.
But he is off to Galway town,
(And who dare tell her this?)
Enchanted by a woman's eyes,
Half-maddened by her kiss.
So as we go by Molly's door
We look towards the sea,
And say, "May God bring home your lad
Wherever he may be."
I pray it may be Molly's self
The banshee keens and cries,
For who dare breathe the tale to her,
Be it her man who dies?