The Maui news. [volume] (Wailuku, Maui, H.I.) 1900-current, 1919-03-14
St. PatriCk's Day

In many lands we've wandered far
Since last that we beheld it,
Yet with each new st. Patrick's Day
Comes happiness untold.
"Tis hen our hearts awaken
To vivid recollections,
And we see again the old friends
With faces good and kind;
And we wander through the meadows
Midst the cowslips and the daisies,
With the skylarks blythely warbling
In the blue and smiling sky.
Oh, the voices of the old friends
Sound in our ears so plainly,
In fancy we're conversing
AS in joyous days of yore,
Speaking Of the hores that filed us
And the things of life that thrilled
us,
Weaving visions of the future,
Which, alas! can never be.
Row sweet the thoughts that cluster
OF the care-frec, roguish coIleens.
With rosy cheeks and raven hair
And eyes of Irish blue,
OF the tales of love we told them,
Oft in joke and oft in earnest,
By flowery walks and paths, and
lanes
Where the hawthorn blossoms grew
And the kisses that were stolen
From warm lips, in youths abandon
With innocence and laughter,
Shure the flavor fingers still!
And oh, the fun we used to have
In hay time and in harvest,
With the wild impromptue dances
In the meadows and the glens!
And on Patrick's Day we'd roam the
fields
In bands, and pluck the shamrocks
In pride and joy, and celebrate
In rale ould Irish style;
And all day good health" in Pat
rick's pots"
We'd drink, and drown the sham
rock"
And court the girls and dance and
sing
Until the coming morn!
And what music ever equalied that
OF the fiddle for the dancing,
AS in jigs and reels, with liesome feet
We stepped upon the floor
At wedding or at christening,
At fair or merry-making,
Oh, the likes of it, wher'er we roam,
We never shall hear more!
And Oh! what fearsome pleasure
twas,
When the storm without was how
ling,
To gather by the turf fire
And heal the dreadful tales
or banshees, ghosts and fairies,
And of places that were haunted,
Till our limbs felt strange and creepy
And the blood cold in our veins!
Yet, we left them all behind us,
With light hearts and fond en-
braces,
, Saying 'twould only be a little while
Till we'd be back again;
But alas! for all our dreaming,
For the hopes fast dissipating,
The glad hands of the loved ones
We may clasp no more on earth!
Some are gone from us forever,
With their smiles and marry laugh
ItI,|
The aged and light-hearted,
The beautiful and young;
But We'll cherish and We'll love them
For. the Irish hearts within them,
That were eve fond and faithful
In prosperity or ill.
Oh! memories, how we haunt me
OF the songs of dear old Ireland,
So sweet and sad and tender,
So light and brave and gay,
Till feel again the ferver
OF the youth I've left behind me-,
And would dance a jig in merriment
On blest st. Patricl's Day!
Nd 10Y again. is burning
The hopes of youth and freedom,
That lifted and sustained us
Through the years so swiftly gone;
And the harp that once through Tara
Made music to the night-wind,
Will wake once more the echoes
In grand eXulting song!
For the vision bright we've cherished,
Through centuries of turmoil,
OF Ireland as a Nation,
Full soon may come to be;
Then Home again returning
To the land for which we're yearn-
ing,
Well celebrate st. Patrick's Day
In Erin young and free!
P. MAURICE MCMAHON,
Waikiki, Maui, March IL, 1919.
Real Literature