Alice Guerin Crist
Poems of Alice Guerin Crist
|2.||A Dream Of Heaven||4/5/2010|
|3.||A Letter From Palestine||4/5/2010|
|4.||A Song Of Delight||4/5/2010|
|5.||A Young Rebel||4/5/2010|
|19.||Murtagh The Cobbler||4/5/2010|
|20.||November in Ireland||1/1/2004|
O’Shea was a big railway ganger, clean-hearted, and clean-limbed and shy,
With a glint of grey hair at his temples, and smile in his Irish blue eye;
He’d but one speech for every occasion, as you told him the news of the day,
And I know I will shock pious people-but poor Tim meant no harm when he’s say.
“Aw! g’long, go-to-hell, go-to-hell now! In a mildly expostulant way.
Oft the boys told, with winking and laughter, how O’Shea courted early in life
The dashing and voluble lady who’d mak