Is heard on the water, as they were, the proud and apart,
Who paced in the eve by the nets on the pebbly shore,
When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart.
THE BALLAD OF FATHER O’HART
Good Father John O’Hart
In penal days rode out
To a shoneen who had free lands
And his own snipe and trout.
In trust took he John’s lands;