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Written by Padraig Colum
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Tuesday, 03 May 2005 |
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O, to
have a little house!
To own
the hearth and stool and all!
The
heaped-up sods upon the fire,
The pile
of turf against the wall!
To have a
clock with weights and chains
And
pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser
filled with shining delph
Speckled
with white and blue and brown!
I could
be busy all the day
Clearing
and sweeping hearth and floor,
And
fixing on their shelf again
My white
and blue and speckled store!
I could
be quiet there at night
Beside
the fire and by myself,
Sure of a
bed, and loathe to leave
The
ticking clock and the shining delph!
Och but
I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads
where there's never a house or bush,
And tired
I am of bog and road,
And the
crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am
praying to God on high,
And I am
praying Him night and day,
For a
little house - a house of my own –
Out of
the wind's and the rain's way.
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Short Stories 
