Classic Poem

Och , when we lived in ould Glenann
—Meself could lift a song!
An' ne'er an hour by day or dark
—Would I be thinkin' long.

The weary wind might take the roof,
—The rain might lay the corn;
We'd up an' look for betther luck
—About the morrow's morn.

But since we come away from there
—An' far across the say,
I still have wrought, an' still have thought
—The way I'm doin' the day.

An' now we're quarely betther fixed,
—In troth! there's nothin' wrong:
But me an' mine, by rain an' shine
—We do be thinkin' long.