Katharine Tynan - HaymakingKatharine Tynan - Haymaking
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Aye, sure, it does always be rainin`
An` the hay lyin` out in the wet,
But what`s the good o` complainin`?
It never made things better yet!
There`ll be musty hay in the manger,
The cow`s goin` dry, be mischance,
And the boy that went for a Ranger
Is lost on us -- somewhere in France!
The father of him, it`s heart-breakin` --
Wid a watery glint o` the sun,
It`s out wid him, turnin` an` shakin` --
Then all the labour`s undone.
There won`t be much savin` in Connaught,
The winter`ll be hungry and black,
But I wouldn`t waste sorrow upon it
If only the boy could come back!
There`s a terrible cloud over Nephin,
An` the rain rushin` up from the say,
Och, what if the hay is past savin`?
I wouldn`t be mindin` the hay.
`Tis the loss of the boy`s bent me double,
An` the poor ould man is as bad;
I`m starvin` for him, an` the trouble,
The trouble`s heavy and sad.
God`s good and He`ll send better weather,
The sun`ll be shinin` again,
If Pat and me was together
I wouldn`t be mindin` the rain.
No matter what weather was in it
I wouldn`t care if he`d come.
But the heart o` me`s cryin` this minit,
For the boy that`ll never come home!
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