Mary McVeagh

Long ago long ago when my hair was still curley
there was many-a colleen on me cast an eye
Pretty girls, pretty girls passing by late and early
And they smiled as they passed but i did not know why
Now time that old thief with his impudent fingers
has banished their names and their faces away
Ne’er a one ne’er a one in my memory lingers
I’ve forgotten them all but for Mary Mc Veigh


Nowadays , nowadays all my friends call me tubby
And the few hairs I have are as bent as a skewer
Ne’er a one , ne’er a one would have me for a hubby
and I’d run out of breath if I tried to pursue her
But when a man's rich he can take any notion
to do as he pleases and none can say nay
Once again, once again I crossed over the ocean
to the village where I left Mary McVeagh

Very fine, very fine are these civilisations
With their water laid on and six lamps down the street
All the same, all the same I don’t like alterations
Nor their roofs of red iron and roads of concrete
I turned to go back with small gains for my trouble
When there on the pavement just over the way
There she stood, there she stood while my pulses beat double
The spirit and image of Mary McVeagh


Just the same, just the same with her shawl and her basket
And the same dear blue eyes staring up at my car
When I said Won’t you tell me one thing if I asked it
Now isn’t it Mary McVeagh that you are?”
As the sun-gleam that runs across meadow and river
When white clouds of April blow over the brae
Once again, once again that bright smile made me quiver
As she said , ‘sure Granny was Mary McVeagh”


From Sam Henry’s Songs of the People :
Henry noted:“Source not given”