LITTLE NORRY SULLIVAN

New Zealand Tablet, 16 May 1918, Page 23

LITTLE NORRY SULLIVAN

Little Norry Sullivan, she’s gone to join the nuns, Ain’t it sthrange, the convent often gets the wildest ones ? Makin’ fun an’ frolickin’ you’ll see thim here to-day, Look around to-morrow an’, bedad, they’re gone away! Gone away from all the fun. Gone away to be a nun, Faith, ’its quare an’ sthrange it is, achorra, as I say. That’s the kind that Norry was ; a livelier never stept— Do you mind how fast she ran, how fearlessly she lept ? Everything her brothers did, ’twas she could do the same, (As for quiet Kelvin, sure, she put the lad to shame.) Out she’d be from morn till night, .Playin’ ball was her delight, Norry’s side was sure to win, whin she was in the game.

Man alive, but ’twas herself was just the merriest lass, Hardly could keep still while Father Toole was sayin’ Mass; Thryin’ hard to hold her eyes upon her little book. But the open window oft would lure her longin’ look. Then you knew her mind had slipt From her prayer-book an’ had skipt Out among the meadows in the softly-growing grass.

Sure, it seems like yesterday I saw her up an’ down, Runnin’ like a redshank through the streets o’ Garrick Town. Double-knockin’ people’s doors an’ pullin’ people’s bells, Makin’ people nervous with her screeches an’ her yells. But she’s all grown up to-day, An’ she’s left an’ gone away, Gone to be a Sisther in the convent down at Kells.

"Wondher what came over her? Ah, sure, ’tis hard to know.

This you may be certain, no one wanted her to go. Naither of the parents liked the step she took at all, An’ there was one boy that felt as if he’d like to bawl. But ’twas Norry didn’t mind; All their words were only wind ; Said she had it in her heart an’ must obey the call !

Little Norry Sullivan, God mark your soul to grace ! Take my blessin’ on your heart an’ on your happy face ! Take my blessin’ on your work, an’ on your prayin’ tod,

On whatever task the Lord may give your hand to do. An’ whatever be his will, An’ whatever be His will, Little Norry Sullivan, sure, that’s my wish to you !- DeNjs A. McCarthy. \