Dan And Nora Sullivan
They lived in the cottage by the gate to Tubrid Well the Sullivans Nora and Dan
For at least three score and ten years in time a lengthy span
Till failing health and the wear of age on them both did take toll
And the turning back of the hands of time is beyond human control.
The brother and sister Dan and Nora Sullivan I never more will see
They were claimed by the reaper the one who will claim me
But memories of them till my end with me I will retain
And each time I look back on my past they come to life again
I do recall at Christmas time Nora always remembered me
A greeting card from a dear old friend beyond the northern sea
She outlived Dan by six or seven years and news of her death reduced me to tears
For a mentor and role model of my long gone childhod years.
I knew them in my younger years from the same Townland as I
Two people I looked up to when I was a school going boy,
Dan and Nora Sullivan they could not live with a lie
And it truly could be said of them that they would not harm a fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Nora Sullivan
In their cottage in Claraghatlea she lived with her only brother Dan
And she was way beyond mid life when i was a young man
Her name was Nora Sullivan one who was good and kind
And people of her type are rare and always hard to find.
She lived to a fairly good age and though her I'm never more to see
The mental pictures of her are etched in my memory
A mentor of my childhood years and a privilege to know
I spoke to her for the last time some twenty years ago.
She was a devout lady and religious in a good way
And of any other person she never had bad to say
When I return to Millstreet I will not see her again
But good and fond memories of her till my own end I'll retain.
I always will remember her for her warm smile and kind eyes
And she was an honest person so honourable and wise
The pathway to a moral life she always did pursue
And to her God and her higher self she always was so true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Receiving A Christmas Card From Nora
A Christmas card from a friend far away
It takes me back again to boyhood day
She was a woman when I was young boy
Some forty years ago how time does fly.
She was a good friend to our family
And nice to know she still remember me
A friend and neighbour of the very best
And one of the kindest souls of Millstreet West.
That Christmas card from Nora took me far away
Back home to Millstreet Town and Claraghatlea
And Christmas was a special time of year
A time of Santa, Christmas fun and cheer.
A Christmas card from friend of years ago
And no friend like old friend we used to know
And a card from dear friend is a gift of joy
And it took me back to when I was a boy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Nora El Nora
Nora El Nora, ne'ezar begvura shuvi elay malki
Dodi refa, nafshi nichsefa, lebeitach malchi
Nora El Nora, ne'ezar begvura
Nora Ashira, Lach akabira, shir mahalali
Lecha etna menat chevly vegoraly
Bekol zman azor el nora, geza avraham, netzer tifa'ara,
Ata el hai noten torah
[Translation:]
Nora El Nora, the lord of courage
Return me my lord, mend my wounds,
my soul is yearning, and in valor we wait.
Nora i sing thee, a hymn of praise,
to you I give my life and faith
Through all time, mighty Nora,
deliver us progeny of Abraham,
Offspring of greantess,
you are the libing God,
giver of Torah
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Norra El Norra (Entering The Ark)
Norra El Norra (Entering The Ark)
???? ?? ???? ???? ?????? ???? ??? ????
???? ???, ???? ??????, ????? ????
???? ?? ????, ???? ??????
???? ?????, ?? ??????, ??? ?????
?? ???? ??? ????
???? ??? ???? ?? ????, ??? ?????, ??? ?????,
??? ?? ?? ???? ????
Translation:Nora El Nora, the lord of courage,
Return to me my lord, men my wounds,
my soul is yerning, and in valor we wait.
Nora I sing to thee, hymn of praise,
to you I give my life and faith
Through all time, mighty Nora,
deliver us the progany of abraham,
Offspring of greatness,
you are the living God,
giver of Torah.
song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Nora
Beneath the gold acacia buds
My gentle Nora sits and broods,
Far, far away in Boston woods
My gentle Nora!
I see the tear-drop in her e'e,
Her bosom's heaving tenderly;
I know—I know she thinks of me,
My Darling Nora!
And where am I? My love, whilst thou
Sitt'st sad beneath the acacia bough,
Where pearl's on neck, and wreath on brow,
I stand, my Nora!
Mid carcanet and coronet,
Where joy-lamps shine and flowers are set—
Where England's chivalry are met,
Behold me, Nora!
In this strange scene of revelry,
Amidst this gorgeous chivalry,
A form I saw was like to thee,
My love—my Nora!
She paused amidst her converse glad;
The lady saw that I was sad,
She pitied the poor lonely lad,—
Dost love her, Nora?
In sooth, she is a lovely dame,
A lip of red, and eye of flame,
And clustering golden locks, the same
As thine, dear Nora?
Her glance is softer than the dawn's,
Her foot is lighter than the fawn's,
Her breast is whiter than the swan's,
Or thine, my Nora!
Oh, gentle breast to pity me!
Oh, lovely Ladye Emily!
Till death—till death I'll think of thee—
Of thee and Nora!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
Lesbia hath a beaming eye,
But no one knows for whom it beameth;
Right and left its arrows fly,
But what they aim at no one dreameth.
Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon
My Nora's lid that seldom rises;
Few its looks, but every one,
Like unexpected light, surprises!
Oh, my Nora Creina, dear,
My gentle, bashful Nora Creina,
Beauty lies
In many eyes,
But Love in yours, my Nora Creina.
Lesbia wears a robe of gold,
But all so close the nymph hath laced it,
Not a charm of beauty's mould
Presumes to stay where Nature placed it.
Oh! my Nora's gown for me,
That floats as wild as mountain breezes,
Leaving every beauty free
To sink or swell as Heaven pleases.
Yes, my Nora Creina, dear,
My simple, graceful Nora Creina,
Nature's dress
Is loveliness --
The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.
Lesbia hath a wit refined,
But, when its points are gleaning round us,
Who can tell if they're design'd
To dazzle merely, or to wound us?
Pillow'd on my Nora's heart,
In safer slumber Love reposes --
Bed of peace! whose roughest part
Is but the crumpling of the roses.
Oh! my Nora Creina, dear,
My mild, my artless Nora Creina!
Wit, though bright,
Hath no such light
As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Irish Convict's Return
Ye mountains and glens of Old Ireland,
I've returned home to ye again;
During my absence from ye
My heart always felt great pain.
Oh, how I long'd to see you dear Nora,
And the old folks at home;
And the beautiful Lakes o' Killarney,
Where we oft together did roam.
Ye beautiful Lakes of Killarney,
Ye are welcome to me again;
I will now reform my character,
And from all bad company refrain.
Oh, how I have long'd to see my old father
And my mother dearer than all;
And my favourite dog Charlie
That wont to come at my call.
Ye green hills and lakes of Old Ireland,
Ye are dearer than life unto me;
Many sleepless nights I have had
Since my banishment from thee.
But to-night I will see the old folks
And my dear Nora too ...
And she and I will get married,
And I'm sure we will never rue.
And we may have plenty of children,
And for them I will work like a man.
And I hope Nora and I will live happy,
And do the best we can.
For my own part, I will never grumble,
But try and be content ...
And walk in the paths of virtue,
And remember my banishment.
And at night at the fireside with Nora,
I will tell her of my limbs being bound,
And all my great hardships endured,
And how I was lash'd like a hound.
And when my story is ended,
Nora will sympathise with her tears,
Which will help to drown my sorrow,
And help me through coming years.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Hesitating Beauty
For your sparkling cocky smile I've walked a million miles
Begging you to come and wed me in the spring
Why do you my dear delay
What makes you laugh and turn away
You're a hesitating beauty, Nora Lee
Well I know that you are itching to get married, Nora Lee
And I know how I'm twitching for the same thing, Nora Lee
By the stars and clouds above we could spend our lives in love
You're a hesitating beauty, Nora Lee
We can build a house and home where the flowers come to bloom
Around our yard I'll nail a fence so high
That the boys with peeping eyes cannot see that angel face
My hesitating beauty Nora Lee
Well I know that you are itching to get married Nora Lee
And I know how I'm twitching for the same thing Nora Lee
By the stars and clouds above we can spend our lives in love
If you quit your hesitating, Nora Lee
We can ramble hand in hand across the grasses of our land
I'll kiss you for each leaf on every tree
We can bring our kids to play where the dry leaves blow today
If you quit your hesitating, Nora Lee
Well I know that you are itching to get married, Nora Lee
And I know how I'm twitching for the same thing, Nora Lee
By the stars and clouds above we could spend our lives in love
If you quit your hesitating, Nora Lee
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nora on the Pavement
As Nora on the pavement
Dances, and she entrances the grey hour
Into the laughing circle of her power,
The magic circle of her glances,
As Nora dances on the midnight pavement;
Petulant and bewildered,
Thronging desires and longing looks recur,
And memorably re-incarnate her,
As I remember that old longing,
A footlight fancy, petulant and bewildered;
There where the ballet circles,
See her, but ah! not free her from the race
Of glittering lines that link and interlace;
This colour now, now that, may be her,
In the bright web of those harmonious circles.
But what are these dance-measures,
Leaping and joyous, keeping time alone
With Life's capricious rhythm, and all her own,
Life's rhythm and hers, long sleeping,
That wakes, and knows not why, in these dance-measures?
It is the very Nora;
Child, and most blithe, and wild as any elf,
And innocently spendthrift of herself,
And guileless and most unbeguiled,
Herself at last, leaps free the very Nora.
It is the soul of Nora,
Living at last, and giving forth to the night,
Bird-like, the burden of its own delight,
All its desire, and all the joy of living,
In that blithe madness of the soul of Nora.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Last Irish Christening
We christened Megan
Catholic today
just as we had,
years ago, Sean and Nora.
Afterward my wife and I,
with relatives and friends,
talked and joked as Megan slept
through drinks and barbecue
Father fixed behind the phlox
in Mother's garden.
That was Sunday.
Now, on Monday,
Sue and I begin
another week of work
and all the years
we'll have to wait
before we'll know
if Megan swings
the razor of good reason.
We need to know
because of Sean and Nora.
They slew us
at the age of treason.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Eddie O Mahony
He never more will walk in the Town of Millstreet in St Mary's cemetery at peace he lay
Perhaps in his mid forties to his early fifties he did die young and it would be fair to say
Of him that he was really a nice person he made so many friends along life's way
And one day his lot it will be our lot as for each of us there is a final day.
In his younger years Eddie O Mahony played Soccer and Gaelic Football in Brian Sullivan's Mal Paso pub he was well known
His family and his many friends will mourn him and Murphy's Terrace and Millstreet Town has lost one of it's own
He seemed so young for to go to the reaper but suppose he was not meant for to grow old
But in the Mal Paso pub his old mates will recall him when stories of the good days will be told.
A youngish man he had so much to live for he did not live for to die as an old man
The reaper takes the young and old and ageing though short in time is the longest life span
One can only hope for Eddie that his end was peaceful that at his end he did not suffer pain
He was well known and well liked around Millstreet and with those who knew him good memories of him will remain.
Pre-deceased by his beloved father Dan O, Eddie is one his friends always will recall
In his younger years as i can well remember he played Sports, Soccer and Gaelic Football
He died as a young enough man that seems so sad of years he did not even reach three score
And he will be sadly missed from the Mal Paso and may he rest in peace forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Years ago I was a runway model, and I used to get laughs. I thought it was a joke anyway.
Nora: A Serenade
AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,
While Night like a spirit steals up o'er the hills;
The thrash from his tree where he chanted all day,
No longer his music in ecstasy trills.
Then, Nora, be near me; thy presence doth cheer me,
Thine eye hath a gleam that is truer than gold.
I cannot but love thee; so do not reprove me,
If the strength of my passion should make me too bold.
Nora, pride of my heart,—
Rosy cheeks, cherry lips, sparkling with glee,—
Wake from thy slumbers, wherever thou art;
Wake from thy slumbers to me.
Ah, Nora, my Nora, there's love in the air,—
It stirs in the numbers that thrill in my brain;
Oh, sweet, sweet is love with its mingling of care,
Though joy travels only a step before pain.
Be roused from thy slumbers and list to my numbers;
My heart is poured out in this song unto thee.
Oh, be thou not cruel, thou treasure, thou jewel;
Turn thine ear to my pleading and hearken to me.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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A New And A Better World
A new and a better World I may not live to see
But the time is not far distant when all people will live free
Of oppressive regimes and terrorism and greed and poverty
For all of those poor victims of capitalism who live in penury.
A new and better World may be a century away
And I for one will not be around for to celebrate that day
And though one hundred years may seem far off in time not a lengthy span
Only the life time after all of one long lived woman or man.
We may not be that far away in time when ageing people will recall
We never thought we'd live to see the day of a fair go for all
When people are not discriminated against due to their religion or race
And in human society for poverty and oppression there isn't any place.
A new and a far better World for me will come too late
For time is ever ticking and the reaper for me wait
But the day is not that distant when people in wars or of hunger will not die
And a fair go is something that all people will enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Boys I Went To School With
We played football in the school yard and we swam in the Finnow
But the years go by so quickly and to father time we bow
And the boys I went to school with perhaps now looking gray
And many of them from the Homeland shore like me live far away.
Many of the boys I went to school with and that's going back more than four decades in time
Are now ageing grand fathers and years beyond their prime
And those legs that could move so quickly some forty years ago
Now feeling tired and heavy and their fastest pace is slow.
The boys I went to school with have known a better day
And that time takes care of everyone it would be fair to say
Our young years went too quickly and time just flitted by
And on looking back it seems like only yesterday when I was a school boy.
Some of the boys I went to school with to the grim reaper have gone
But life back in the old Hometown as usual carries on
And in the fields near Millstreet Town where the rank rushes grow
The Finnow on towards Drishane and the Blackwater flow.
Most of the boys I went to school with I have not seen for years
But for my fading memories I don't have any tears
We played football in the school yard and in Summer swam in the Finnow
But the years go by so quickly and to father time we bow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Those That I Went To School With
Some of them with the departed and the others growing old and gray
Those that I went to school with in the long gone yesterday
From the boys and girls I went to school with many years before I reached my prime
I am separated by distance and by long years of time.
Some of them live far distant from Hibernia's windswept shore
And from the Town in View of Clara hill overlooking Claramore
And some of them remained in Duhallow married and there raised their family
And some of them remained unattached single and fancy free.
Most of those I went to school with I have not seen for years
And for the past and for what has been I've shed nostalgic tears
Like every other migrant for the past forever gone
But the present is what matters and we keep on keeping on.
Of those I went to school with good memories I retain
Though most of them I realize I will never meet again
We've gone our separate ways in life but memories of them I do recall
And happy memories of what was the best memories of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Nora, the Maid of Killarney
Down by the beautiful Lakes of Killarney,
Off times I have met my own dear Barney,
In the sweet summer time of the year,
In the silvery moonlight so clear,
I've rambled with my sweetheart Barney,
Along the green banks of the Lakes of Killarney.
The Lakes of Killarney are most lovely to be seen
In the summer season when nature's face is green,
Especially in the beautiful silvery moonlight,
When its waters do shine like silver bright;
Such was the time when me and my Barney
Went to walk by the purty Lakes of Killarney.
My Barney was beautiful, gallant, and gay,
But, alas, he has left me and gone far away,
To that foreign country called Amerikay;
But when he returns we will get married without delay,
And again we will roam by the Lakes of Killarney,
Me and my sweetheart, charming Barney.
And until he returns I will feel rather sad,
For while walking with Barney I always felt glad;
May God send him home again safe to me,
And he will fill my sad heart with glee,
While we walk by the Lakes of Killarney.
I dreamt one night I was walking with Barney,
Down by the beautiful Lakes of Killarney,
And he said, "Nora, dear Nora, don't fret for me,
For I will soon come home to thee;
And I will build a nice cabin near the Lakes of Killarney,
And Nora will live happy with her own dear Barney."
But, alas, I awoke from my beautiful dream,
For, och, if was a most lovely scene;
But I hope it will happen some unexpected day,
When Barney comes home from Amerikay;
Then Barney will relate his adventures to me,
As we walk by the silvery Lakes of Killarney.
We will ramble among its green trees and green bushes,
And hear the sweet songs of the blackbirds and thrushes,
And gaze on its lovely banks so green,
And its waters glittering like crystal in the moonlight's sheen;
Och! how I long to be walking with Barney,
Along the green banks of the Lakes of Killarney.
Of all the spots in Ireland, Killarney for me,
For 'twas there I first met my dear Barney:
He was singing, I remember, right merrily;
And his singing filled my heart with glee,
And he said, "Nora, dear Nora, will you walk with me,
For you are the prettiest girl I ever did see."
"Now, Barney," I said, "you are just mocking me,
When you say no other girl like me you can see";
Then he said, "Nora, you are the only girl I do love,
And this I do swear by the saints above,
I will marry you, dear Nora, without delay,
When I come home from Amerikay."
But when Barney landed in Amerikay,
He courted another girl without dismay,
And he married her in the month of May,
And when I heard it I fainted away;
So maidens beware of such men as Barney,
Or else they will deceive ye with their flattering blarney.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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On The Passing Of Lizzie Hickey
I've heard of the passing of Lizzie Hickey a long life on this Earth she did enjoy
And she now lives on in another atmosphere for good people such as she will never die
Yes she lives on somewhere in the hereafter for the reaper never lays claim to the soul
And she is one I always will remember when back the lanes of memory I will stroll.
A Faithful wife to the late Johnny Hickey she raised four children Donal, Joan, John Francis and Jane
And she was a role model and a mentor and marvellous memories of her I retain
I felt saddened at the news of her passing but time 'twould seem for anyone doesn't wait
And we ought not to mourn Lizzie Hickey but her marvellous life we ought to celebrate.
There was so much to like about that woman a great role model to us school going boys
We admired her for her great depth of knowledge so down to earth and yet so very wise,
She was one of the most likeable people and in her kind heart there was so much good
And in her life she never made an enemy and she would only help you if she could.
I heard of the passing of Lizzie Hickey she now is living in a better place
At Inchaleigh close to the Town of Millstreet in our young years her's was a familiar face
She only left her soul elsewhere is living that part of her is never going to die
And in that Land that we know as the hereafter her new life she's beginning to enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Wave From Jimmy Sullivan
A wave from Jimmy Sullivan in Millstreet far away
A nice and spontaneous gesture that did help to make my day
From Clara road one must presume in view of Clara hill
It brought back the old memories as if time had stood still.
When we played Soccer and Gaelic football some twenty years ago
Though our old legs ageing back then nowadays are far more slow
But Jimmy looking fit and well despite the march of time
He was a quick and elusive player when he was in his prime.
One of those lucky people who has a sense of place
In Millstreet Town and Parish his is a well known face
He never will leave Millstreet in Millstreet he will stay
And in his beloved Town of Millstreet he will grow old and gray.
From life i do feel hardened and i feel too old for tears
But that wave from Jimmy Sullivan it took me back the years
To when we were young and fitter and we chased the ball around
In the Inch field at Claraghatlea back then our football ground.
poem by Francis Duggan
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