Classic Poem

An old country woman
The poorest of the poor,
The years were upon her,
Seventy and more;
Her beauty had withered, her brown cheeks were lined,
The bog lay about her, the dark hills behind.

No shoes and no stockings
Upon her feet had she,
A kerchief for headgear,
A shawl to her knee;
A petticoat all patched, red against the bog,
Her only companions an ass and a dog.

The ass was well laden
With the turf for the hearth,
The dog walked before him
To show him the path,
The old woman followed, her face to the sun.
Dreaming how she'd rest herself, the day's work done.

As I saw her standing
With neither gem nor shoe,
I thought of Blessed Mary,
Working woman too;
In shawl and in kerchief, bare foot on the sod,
Our Lady of Labour, the Mother of God.