Retrospection

Retrospection

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LONELY I sit by the wind-beaten shore,

And gaze far away o’er the sea,

While I think of my home, in green Erin, asthore—

That spot on earth dearest to me.

How I long to be once more in old Garden Street,

Where I played in the fond days of yore;

Then rested at night, in the moonbeam’s pale light,

On the stone outside Sullivan’s door.

Oh! where are my youthful companions all gone—

Now scattered all over the earth,

The emigrant ship took them all, one by one,

Far away from the land of their birth.

I remember their features—all brave sturdy lads—

We numbered full twenty, or more

When we formed our camp, to hear Aladdin’s Lamp,

On the stone outside Sullivan’s door.

It was there in my boyhood I dreamt love’s young dream,

As together we sat side by side;

It was sweeter by far than sweetest ice-cream

Then we found that Tom Moore had not lied!

When I pressed her sweet lips, what rapturous bliss,

While her bright eyes said plainly—encore,

As gently my arms stole round her slim waist,

On the stone outside Sullivan’s door.

Yet later she married and jilted poor me,

Thus showing she had common sense,

For he had the key to her heart--£ s d—

While I was not worth eighteen-pence.

They are now settled here, in a State far out west,

And have children and dollars galore,

Yet I wonder if ever she dreams about me

And the stone outside Sullivan’s door.

I feel I have not very long now to live,

And many any day take my exit;

I know that grim death will not one hour give

When ‘he’ comes with my “notice to quit.”

And when I have breathed my very last breath,

On my way to that beautiful shore,

I will ask this request, a few moments rest

On the stone outside Sullivan’s door!

                   Larry Doolan

            

                         Ballina, 3rd November, 1911

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On one occasion Jimmy (Larry Doolan), was a little bit the worse for wear, and as he was been escorted home by a friend, Jimmy insisted on taking a rest seat on the stone at Sullivan’s. Even though it was nearing midnight Jimmy regaled his helper with an impromptu verse:

“I will now take a rest in the street of the blest,

On the stone outside Sullivan’s door!”

The following day his helper” asked him what he meant by “the street of the blest”. Jimmy replied: “I called it the street of the blest because so many priests were born there. From Carroll’s Corner to the Pig Market no fewer than ten priests went forth to labour in the Lord’s vineyard. They were; Bishop Patrick O’Boyle, Most Rev. Dean Timlin, Fr. Joe Carroll, Fr. Tommy Guinan, Fr. Henry Hewson, Fr. Boyle (a brother of Dr. Boyle of Gurteen), Fr. Michael Smyth, Fr. Edward Timlin; another Fr. Timlin, a brother of Mrs. Price of Garden Street; and Fr. Breslin.