IRELAND.

New Zealand Tablet, 5 February 1920, Page 33

IRELAND.

(For the N.Z. Tablet.) ...... * A pang of sorrow wrings my heart ; Whene'er I think of thee, Loved Erin, in thy suffering, Thousands of miles from me— ,' , Cold with the horrors of the past, The falsehood of to-day, When traitorous pen and cruel tongue Are in the strangers' pay. Strangers to thee, our mother, Who nurtured us of old, And passed us on our Holy Faith, And spurned their proffered gold. The seed thou sowedst, mother, In sorrow and in pain, Now yields the mighty harvest Of shimmering golden grain. Where'er thy children wandered, With nought on earth to gain, Though homesick oft and weary, They sowed thy hallowed grain. The grain of Faith and Freedom, The grain of Truth and Right, The lovely seed of innocence So precious in God's sight. Thy children severed from thee, And scattered far away, Now prove a blessing for thee, In God's own wondrous way. Then raise thy head, dear country, Thy night is nearly o'er; Neglect and pain and banishment Shall bo thy lot no more. For onward o'er the waters, And o'er the countries wide The voices of the people Sweep like a mighty tide. Those voices tell of Freedom->-Of Freedom given at last. The weary years of waiting, Thank God, will soon be past. ■ —Miriam Clkghobn. i