The Linnet's Wings :Take All My Loves, My Love - Page 137

The Linnet´s Wings Note: This piece was found in remnant notes and marked pages after my maternal grandfather John Igoe passed on in his 93rd year and were in my possession until they were transcribed to my first computer. John Igoe often recited pieces to us many times in our early years. (Tom Sheehan) The Dream of the Roscommon Emigrant By John Igoe There is a land though far away that’s very dear to me, an island in the ocean most picturesque to see. As each day goes by I heave a sigh for those lovely native scenes: Ah! Isle of Saints and Martyrs, I see you in my dreams. I’m at the gate of Clooniquin, I hear the pearling stream now wend its way to Ross and then to far Culleen. I hear the thrush and blackbird in the holly and laurel tree; my soul says I must loiter in this fair locality. I cross the bridge and up the walk and toward that lovely grove; with ecstasy my heart does bound as onward I do rove. From the countless pines a shadow runs to meet me on the hill 137