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Show THE OULD SOD Pat Nowlan, do you mind of the stile That straddled the hedge by the whin-grown cairn, And the Connocht hills for many a mile A-wearin' the green of the heather and fern? Do you think of the colleen baugh so tweet, With laughter and mischief a-brim-min' o'er? L)o you hear the pat of her wee bare feet. When she runs to meet with you at the door? r'at Nowlan paused on bis mass-ward way. And a rollickin' wrinkle crept into his smile, "Arrah," says he, "how St. Patrick's day Makes an ould divil wish be was I young for a while." George M. Russell in Houston Post. |