The Irish standard., 1899-09-02
3 A REMINIscENcE OF IRELAND.

ireland, lana OF my parents birth and
OF my dear, kind grandmother.
How often in the long winter even
ings by glowing coal fire, with the
shadows dancing on the wall and light
ing up her kindly face, or on summer
evenings by the open window, when
the moon rose in splendor, and shone
brightly down OH grandmother and her
eager listeners, heard her tell for the
llundredtl time the story OF days gone
by-swcet "Reminiscences OF her girlhood
and youth in the dear old land OF her
birth. Home she always called it, and
home it surely was TO her, if home is
where the heart Isl" for her heart was
in sunny Ireland, in the home where
she spent SO many happy years, and
often gathered the wild primroses Or
hunted for the iour-leafed shamrock
when the iurze and purple heather
were i'll full bloom. In the peaceful
quiet OF the little chapel where she knelt
SO often to pray, and in the lonely
cemetery by the ruins OF the old abbey,
beneath the boughs OF trees that arched
overhead, there my grandfather and
many of her kindred sleep their last
long sleep.
With what pride l heard her speak OF
the stainless name OF my ancestors;
how generous and good they were; how
their door was ever open to the poor
and needy; and how the stranger or
poor homeless wanderer met with a
''caed mile iailthe" Listening, l
would find myself repeating those lines
OF Gerald Griffin:
Lonely we shelter in grief and in dan
ger,
Yet have we welcome and cheer for the
stranger.
Little we have for Our sons to inherit,
Yet what we have thou art welcome to
share it."
Young as l was I resolved to be like
them, and keep that name as stainless
and as pure as when it was left as a
heritage to 1ne-iar better than wealth
or lame with faith that had come
down to me from generations pasta
faith that my ancestors cherished and
priced above all else. How eagerly we
listened,-we, her grandchildre1l-wl1
she told us Of the pleasant summer
evenings when the dancing master came
to teach the young folks to dance in the
roomy kitchen; Or when the neighbors
gathered around the turf fire and told
stories OF ghosts and fairies, and ban
shoes, and how I loved the fairies and
could listen for hours without firing
when she told us stories OF them; but
had wholesome fear of the banshee,
and often on dark nights L have lis
tened, chilled with terror, fearful Of
hearing the dread wall.
But of all grandmotlcr's stories I
loved best to hear OF the blind piper.
Hc was an object OF love and venera-
ton to us when she told how he would
come on a lovely summer evening and
play for them on his pipes, in the soft
summer air. and often heard the sweet,
Wild music OF the bagpipes in fancy, as
no doubt memory recalled it to dear
grandmother
1t was she that awakened in my ma
turc passionate love for Ireland when
a child l heard her speak in praise of
its beauty and grandeur. The flowers
were iairer and the sun sllone brighter
there. | thought, than anywhere else in
the world; and often when she had
ceased speaking, while the shadows
dcepened on the wall, would sit and
think how peacefully and happy their
lives glidcd on to the boundless ocean
OF eternity, and how hard it must have
been to bid goodbye to Ireland from
the deck OF some mighty ship that was
to bear them to strange, new land.
And when dear grandmother was laid
to rest in that sleep that knows no walk
ing, and we gathered around the fire in
the evening, would close my eyes and
fancy l heard her voice again and rouse
with start to find it was but dream
that was ended.
Farewell, dear grandmother. Only in
dreams will l hear again the tales that
as child l loved to hear you tell and,
dear Erin OF my dreams, farewell!
She is sleeping far from her kindred
now,
That last sweet sleep, meath stranger
sky,
To the dear old land she loved so we'll
She has breathed last goodbye.
And now I stand by her lonely grave,
While the birds are singing overhead;
l wonder, do they sing as sweet DER her
AS they do DER her kindred dead.
Does she sleep as peaceful in this
strange land
AS she would at home in fair Auglish
church
Meath the shadow OF the ancient cross,
And the leaiy shade OF the laurel and
birch.
Where her loved ones lie by the ruins
gray ..
OF the Abbey wall meath its shamrock
sod: