XIII

Och, Molly, we thought, machree, ye would start back agin into life,

Whin we laid yez, aich be aich, at yet wake like husban' an' wife.

Sorra the dhry eye thin but was wet for the frinds that was gone!

Sorra the silent throat but we hard it cryin' 'Ochone!'

An' Shamus O'Shea that has now ten childer, hansome an' tall,

Him an' his childer wor keenin' as if he had lost thim all.