The Irish standard., 1886-12-04
81 AMR0CK.S FROM ERIN. :;] !.
MOLLY MURPHY.
zo irish Ballad Of Real Life, the Author Of
Which is Unknown.

{, Irish Ballad Of Real Life, the Author Of
Which is Unknown.
s,ol,v Murphy, fve-andforty, lived along the
Cooley strand
,iye7 by selling fish and cockles-and she
sighed for Mooney hand.
sfoonez-vas q man Of fortune, owned pony
and a cart,
And oh. .rarer gift Of fortunei owned poor
Molly Murphy's heart.
,so,ly,s heart was very tender, though her
hand was rough and red.
.scarrea by fifty lines and creases in the toll for
daily bread;
s5c,,y's waist was far from dainty, and her
voice was somewhat loud,
Heard above the din OF purchase in the little
market crowd.
Dressed in drugget gown and prask1n, meath
kerch!ef red and green,
Tira crecl behind her shoulders, sturdy
Molly might be seen;
There is little good i'll gushing, still think that
may say,
gaa the world no MoIlylM urphys truly 'twere
awoful flay
MONEYS mother lay in fever, MONEYS self
was stricken down;
This is taking" said the doctor, who had
driven out from town.
s'it may be their death to move them'-all the
neighhors shrnllk in dread
still az there is none to nurse them- II
will nurse the1n,' Molly said.
..yt may cost your life, good woman" said the
DOCTOR cold and dry.
,.ss4ad ia goodn' was all she answered, purpose
planted in her eye.
sslssavely spoken!" criedthe doctor. "But the
nan will soon grow Wild;
After that--sho,i!d ne get through ft-you
must nurse him Ikea child"
Then ne sought his car and left her where the
son and mother lay,
One at each end of the cabin, as the daylight
died away,
lowering between tn cir pallets, Molly marked
the waning light,
And she thought, "Hehl rave to-morrow-he
must have the priest to-nightT'
But the mon had all gone fishing out upon the
evening tide,
And the dreaded name of fe yer made the Wo-
men terrified.
Years before the fell destruction devastated all
the shore.
And the recollection filed their frightened
hearts for ey.rrnOre.
No, she must not scare the ne1ghDors; sne ner-
self will bring the priest,
sl,houssn lie live far down the parish-two long
Irish miles at least.
:>%s@~ fhn Flo
thatcte. abode,
Molly hasped tsr: door behind her and pro-
ceeded down tue road.
When she reached and told the curate, sud-
denly She say him stirred
Like twig that sways and trembles under
meath /, startled bird.
s'Fathcr desr.'' she cried In anguish, "you are
young and far from strong
will run for Father Brady-it is not so very
long"
AT will GO" the young priest an swered, death
like pu'lor on ',is cheek;
":sNo YOUR reverouce-no, acushla this is
Father i}r Gy's week!
fIe is old, Ills nerves are steady, as your own
will be scule day, ..0..
please Gol." Molly curtseyed, left him, and
IN darkness SpcO away.
In the solemn hours of morning, when the
watcher by the bed
Feels the awEuI sense of silence weigh upon
his heart like lead.
Molly watched hcr fever patients and her
heart went forth in prayer,
Grateful she had found the Father and had
brought h1s blessing thele.
All tue love sba long had cherished, often with
asense OF shame,
SFor the rough and sturdy Mooney now she felt
was free from, blame.
BLESSED love that Inks creation! Love unsul-
lied, brave, serene,
Makes the prcutlest queen wOman-makes
the hnmhlest woman queen!
Mooney ravcd, and in his raving told VIII
Molly had not known
Told the secret OF his passion for the dark
haired Kate Malone;
Kate Malone was young and blooming, decked
with ribbons fine and smart,
And poor Molly rs she listened, felt the words
go through her heart.
Did she leave him: Friends, fear me have
told my tale in vain
Il you question thus of Molly honest Molly
poor and p,n.
No! she tended son and mother days and
nights when both were wild;
Then, as first the doctor said it, 1sursed them
gently like child.
And when Mooueys strength came to him and
he mixed once more with life,
Gratitude within him prompted and he sought
to make her wife.
"No," she said you love another; love is not
for such as mo;
Kate, no Doubt, will make you happy-I would
rather far be tree.''
Kate Malone is Mrs. Mooney; children crowd
her cottage floor;
Molly Murphy tro's to market as she did in
days OF yoi.',
While her back can bear burthen Molly's
crust is pretty sure,
After thar-weN. there's the workhouse--
wealth. s las sribute to the poor!
ANTRIM.
On Nov. 2 t!ls Rev r. r. Kane and