Margo Emigrant's Letter
Dear Danny I'm takin' the pen in me hand,
To tell you we're just out of sight of the land.
In the grand Allan liner I'm salling in style,
But I'm sailing away from the Emerald Isle.
And a long sort of sigh seemed to come from us all,
As the waves hid the last bit of ould Donegal.
Oh, it's well to be you that is takin' yer tay,
Where they're cuttin' the corn in Creeshla to day.
There's a woman on board who knows Katie by sight
So we talked of ould times 'till they put out the
light.
I'm to meet the good woman tomorra' on deck
And we'll talk about Katie from this to Quebec.
I know I'm no match for her, oh not the least,
With her house and two cows and her brother a priest.
But the woman declares Katie's heart's on the sea,
While mine's with the reapers in Creeshla to day.
If Gaffney comes courting or John Michael Mick
Put a word in for me with a lump of a stick.
Don't kill Gaffney outright he's no kind of chance,
But Mickey's a rogue you might murther at once.
For Katie may think as the longer she waits,
A boy in the hand is worth two in the States.
And she'll promise to honour, to love and obey,
Some ruffjran that's roaming round Creeshla the day.
Goodbye to you Danny no more's to be said,
And I think the salt water's got into me head.
For it drips from me eyes when I call to my mind,
The friends and the coleen I'm leavin behind.
And still she might wait; when I bid her goodbye,
There was just the least taste of a tear in her eye,
And a break in her voice when she said `You might stay,
But please God you'll come back to ould Creeshla some
day.
'
