The Emigrant

And the mystery ended
the naight when
wan and bridgid she sate
by the seawall
green eyes a-squant ower
dark watters a-roarin of foames
and obscairt lights and feign’t bells
and the playfull splasheens
o’merrymaids so gay
follyin afther the wakes
o’manny a grand streemer
ploughen stolick’ly thraught
the grey mountins
o’watters and waives.

She sighs, O
and of lackin backwarth
to jolly owld times o’more--
laffrin and gargoylin
at hearthside and
cracklin marryward
be-warméd at the flames
and her enchantin long tresses
in the dim twankle
and glitters o’candles-laight.

Yes, she stands lorne here
remiss wid a dabble or two
at the corner of dampend aye
and tryin to penetraight
the mysteriad nightdreams
beheld yond the whirlins
and sweepins o’mist at quayside.

Tiz hoame she dreemt of then
far across the wide watter
and all the might-have-beens
that might have drivven her mad
but instead drove her
to the netherside
o’the sea.