Twas a wonderful craft...

she was rigged fore and aft;
and oh! how the wild winds drove her...

But in honor of the day,
let me share my favorite song:

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland,
then maybe at the closing of your day,
you will sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh,
or see the sun go down on Galway Bay.

Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream,
the women in the meadows making hay...
Ah, to sit beside a turf fire in the cabin
and watch the barefoot gossoons at their play.

For the breezes blowing o'er the seas from Ireland,
are perfum'd by the heather as they blow;
And the women in the uplands diggin' praties,
speak a language that the strangers do not know.

For the strangers came and tried to teach us their ways;
They scorned us just for being what we are...
But they might as well go chasing after moonbeans
or light a penny candle from a star.

And if there's is goin' to be a life hereafter,
and somehow ... I am sure there's going to be.
Then I pray my God will let me make my heaven
in that dear land across the Irish sea.

Happy Spring!