There wor ponies a sellin' 'way up in Moysan; Ay, an' ponies a buyin' aroun' by Lough Rann; But little Dap Grey an' her out on the grass Stood waitin' on childer to school for to pass;— Ay, in troth, an' she knew His swift foot in the dew;— Wid his books in a strap, An' a finger'd ould map, An' rosiest apples—och Christy Carew! There wor ponies a cant'rin' roun' hills in a race; Ay, but pony-carts comin' kep' slack'nin' their pace! Och! little Dap Grey saw the black horses pass— An' somethin' a shoulder'd by men after Mass!— Maybe rightly she knew, Like his step in the dew;— For she quit for to look Jist for apple or book, A mindin' I'm thinkin'—wee Christy Carew! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SOLITUDE OF SPACE by FLORA CECILE ALLISON THE WORD OF SUMMER by ELSA BARKER TWELVE SONNETS: 4. LONELY SEASONS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) BROADWAY IN THE OZARKS: NIGHT by BETTY CORBETT BASSETT THOU LIGHT OF LIFE by BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX NIGHT AFTER NIGHT by GERTRUDE BLOEDE THE THREE BLACK CROWS; SPOKEN AT THE FREE GRAMMAR SCHOOL IN MANCHESTER by JOHN BYROM |