Wednesday 11 April 2018

Waitin' on the Sea


The Irish Mariner's Soliloquy

With the soul o' me in Erin, an' meself upon the sea
    Where the soundin' o' the battle I can hear,
Shure me thoughts are all in Erin, where I'm thinkin' long to be,
An the Autumn whispers tremble o'er the shinin' wave to me.
    For the time is in the fadin' o' the year.

Over there the lads are fightin' where the ceaseless bullets fall,
    But the waitin' on the waters falls to me,
An' they say the waitin's needed, but it tries you most of all,
An' you wouldn't be awonderin' why I hear me Erin call
    If you've listened to the callin' o' the sea.

Once you've seen the look o' Erin when the mists are on the corn
    You'll be mindin' it no matter where you roam,
Shure it's now I'm seein' visions o' the golden harvest morn,
An' across the rollin' waters there's a tender music borne
    That recalls to me the song o' “Harvest Home.”

Oh, they're singin' it in Erin, but they're sighin' as they sing
    For the sorrow o' the reapin' at the War,
They are wonderin' what the comin' o' the victory will bring,
For it's Erin's sons have mingled in the flghtin' for the King,
    Aye, they've answered her from other lands afar.

Shure before I did the waitin', it was me that used to go
    Where the sons o' Erin trod an alien strand,
An' I brought them back to Erin o'er the ocean's fretful flow,
There were some she'd near forgotten they had gone so long ago!
    But they hadn't lost the likin' for their land.

An' they couldn't help the yearnin' that the call o' Erin gave,
    For it whispered o' a memory pure an' blest,
An' 'twas me that took them onward to the lands that need the brave,
An' they've shared the pride o' Erin, some have shared a hero-grave
    For the glory o' the homeland in the West.

Have you ever gone athinkin' when the breakin' wave you see
    How on every shore it's just the same to view?
Other charms o' Nature differ when in distant lands you be,
But you'll always be familiar with the image o' the sea,
    An' you'll hear it singin' things you always knew.

It's the likes o' me that knows it, an' I'm thinkin' as I stay
    Where the rollin' ocean wave around me parts,
How the sea was also breakin' o'er the shore so far away,
Where I sailed the sons o' Erin to their honour's battle-day,
    Shure it seemed a link o' Erin to their hearts!

You'd have heard a welcome soundin' in its music's boundless strain,
    It had sung farewell by Erin's peaceful shore,
But the same unbroken spirit rang from out each proud refrain—
It was Glory out in Erin, it was Glory o'er the main
    Where another land it's trace o' battle bore.

I'd be likin' them to hear it when in battle now they stand,
    For they'd feel the guardian love o' Erin near.
Or if ever they were passin' to the silent Shadow-land
It would sing o' higher Glory, till they'd sleep, an' understand
    Why they died to do the winnin' o' it here.

Shure I'm wishin' I was needed where the battleships have gone,
    For you'd feel that you were doin' somethin' great,
An' you wouldn't be afearin' when the foe comes sailin' on,
But there's other kind o' danger that you mightn't think upon,
    An' it's this that makes them say you need to wait.

So I'm proud to do the waitin', though me thoughts are often twined
    With the land that sets me deepest longin' free,
But you're always like to thinkin' on the things you leave behind,
An' it's just the sorb o' Erin to be comin' to your mind
    When you have to do the waitin' on the sea.

LILY MARCUS.
Londonderry

The Witness, 15th September 1916.




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