There wor ponies a sellin' 'way up in Moysan; Ay, an' ponies a buyin' aroun' by Lough Rann; But little Dap Grey an' her out on the grass Stood waitin' on childer to school for to pass;— Ay, in troth, an' she knew His swift foot in the dew;— Wid his books in a strap, An' a finger'd ould map, An' rosiest apples—och Christy Carew! There wor ponies a cant'rin' roun' hills in a race; Ay, but pony-carts comin' kep' slack'nin' their pace! Och! little Dap Grey saw the black horses pass— An' somethin' a shoulder'd by men after Mass!— Maybe rightly she knew, Like his step in the dew;— For she quit for to look Jist for apple or book, A mindin' I'm thinkin'—wee Christy Carew! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TROILUS AND CRESSIDA: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE CARELESS GALLANT by THOMAS JORDAN LAMENT by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY GOBLIN MARKET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HYMNARY: 361. ST. JOHN BAPTIST by BEDE PSALM 84 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |