Classic Poem

Now, who would ye be at the dark iv night
That comes to the door and raps that way,
And fright'nin' me be the fire me lone
And him at his work on Gweebarra Bay,
Fishin'?

Him at his work and me in the house,
With a league iv water between us two—
Cold and black on me childre dead,
And drowned were the two iv them, Micky and Hugh,
Fishin'.

It's work for the two iv us; him at the turf
When the weather is warm, or else the kelp,
And it's knittin' for me, when he bees out
At night on the sea with no one to help,
Fishin'.

'Twas yerself be the door, was it? All the time!
And, there's fear in yer eyes and yer face is white—
Himself it is! Drowned! Oh! Mother iv God!
Look down upon me from above this night!