TO the Wake of OHara
Came company;
All St. Patricks Alley
Was there to see,
With the friends and kinsmen
Of the family.
On the long deal table lay Tim in white,
And at his pillow the burning light.
Pale as himself, with the tears on her cheek,
The mother receivd us, too full to speak;
But she heapd the fire, and on the board
Set the black bottle with never a word,
While the company gatherd, one and all,
Men and women, big and small:
Not one in the Alley but felt a call
To the Wake of Tim OHara.
At the face of OHara,
All white with sleep,
Not one of the women
But took a peep,
And the wives new-wedded
Began to weep.
The mothers gatherd round about,
And praisd the linen and laying out,
For white as snow was his winding-sheet,
And all was peaceful, and clean, and sweet;
And the old wives, praising the blessed dead,
Were thronging around the old press-bed,
Where OHaras widow, tatterd and torn,
Held to her bosom the babe newborn,
And stard all around her, with eyes forlorn,
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
For the heart of OHara
Was good as gold,
And the life of OHara
Was bright and bold,
And his smile was precious
To young and old!
Gay as a guinea, wet or dry,
With a smiling mouth, and a twinkling eye!
Had ever an answer for chaff and fun;
Would fight like a lion, with any one!
Not a neighbor of any trade
But knew some joke that the boy had made;
Not a neighbor, dull or bright,
But minded somethingfrolic or fight,
And whisperd it round the fire that night,
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
To God be glory
In death and life,
Hes taken OHara
From trouble and strife!
Said one-eyed Biddy,
The apple-wife.
God bless old Ireland! said Mistress Hart,
Mother to Mike of the donkey-cart;
God bless old Ireland till all be done,
She never made wake for a better son!
And all joind chorus, and each one said
Something kind of the boy that was dead;
And the bottle went round from lip to lip,
And the weeping widow, for fellowship,
Took the glass of old Biddy and had a sip,
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
Then we drank to OHara
With drams to the brim,
While the face of OHara
Lookd on so grim,
In the corpse-light shining
Yellow and dim.
The cup of liquor went round again,
And the talk grew louder at every drain;
Louder the tongue of the women grew!
The lips of the boys were loosening too!
The widow her weary eyelids closd,
And, soothed by the drop o drink, she dozd;
The mother brightend and laughd to hear
Of OHaras fight with the grenadier,
And the hearts of all took better cheer,
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
Tho the face of OHara
Lookd on so wan,
In the chimney-corner
The row began
Lame Tony was in it,
The oyster-man;
For a dirty low thief from the North came near,
And whistled Boyne Water in his ear,
And Tony, with never a word of grace,
Flung out his fist in the blackguards face;
And the girls and women screamd out for fright,
And the men that were drunkest began to fight:
Over the tables and chairs they threw,
The corpse-light tumbled,the trouble grew,
The newborn joind in the hullabaloo,
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
Be still! be silent!
Ye do a sin!
Shame be his portion
Who dares begin!
T was Father OConnor
Just enterd in!
All lookd down, and the row was done,
And shamd and sorry was every one;
But the Priest just smild quite easy and free
Would ye wake the poor boy from his sleep? said he:
And he said a prayer, with a shining face,
Till a kind of brightness filld the place;
The women lit up the dim corpse-light,
The men were quieter at the sight,
And the peace of the Lord fell on all that night
At the Wake of Tim OHara.
The Wake Of Tim O'Hara
written byWilliam Cosmo Monkhouse
© William Cosmo Monkhouse