THE STORY WITHOUT END.

New Zealand Tablet, 4 December 1919, Page 13

THE STORY WITHOUT END.

Before my time my kindred were - J As felons in their land, : Because they claimed the liberty ' That free men understand. Ere I was born 'in Dublin Town " " • Men's hearts were still aflame; .;' ■ v They spoke of Allen and O'Brien, And whispered Larkin's name. *."• When I slept on my mother's breast, A little babe, and frail, V Young Duffy's hearse went slowly by: He died in Milbank Gaol. When I could read, I spelt and knew The lives of patriot men , * .„: ~ When I could write, my pencil traced—"A Nation Onco Again." I learnt of those who often knew The baton and the cell, Who asked for right by peaceful means O'Connell to Parnell. And once when through the cheering streets Some "felon" homeward came, I lit, amongst the gayer lights, My little candle's flame. When I was but a little child I ran by Kickham's side; I heard his bitter story told In reverence and pride. -.".." ■-■;;.:'.V:f'.l'" And when with years lie passed away, When life was young and fair, I stood upon time's crowded path, And met O'Leary there. .■; I saw with pity and amaze .- , A craven party go, Obedient to a Scotsman's word, For Parnell's overthrow. Before Kilmainham's blood-stained walls I stood all cold and still ; I lived through all the awful night That shadowed Pentonville. If thus o'er one life's blotted page • Some neutral soul should bend, He'll read to-day—as yesterday The story without end. DORA SIGERSON SHORTER. ■ , . ._ ■"'*:'■ £