Denis J Foley Poems

In Memoriam

 Mrs. Mc Donagh,( Widow of Thomas Mc Donagh executed rebel Leader)who was drowned while bathing July 1917.

O'er Dublin town there hangs a gloom,
Dark olouds o'er-look the bay;
Since this true noble lady,
By cruel death was snatched away.
The summer breezes softly blow,
Across the waters blue;
In whispering tones they seem to waft,
To Eire her last adieu.

Ah! cruel, treacherous, ocean false,
Remorseless and unkind;
To unrelenting death-too soon-
Alas! she's been consigned.
The loving children she has left,
And kind friends in anguish sore;
But God the just had willed it so,
And called her to the Eternal Shore.

>>> Therein to meet with him she loved,
Who was torn from her side;
In endless bliss, in sweet union,
Forever to abide; <<<
May the Saviour kind who for men bled,
Grant each eternal rest;
And sooth the hearts who mourn for them,
In the Green Isle of the West.

Denis J. Foley,
Glounecommane.
July----1917

( Alternative Lines )

>>>Now as the years will pass along,
Through life's weary sad sojourn,
They'll miss full oft'those cheery hearts,
Who are gone beyond the bourne.{((

D. J. Foley.

The Church On Freemount Hill

There are lofty fanes in France and Spain,
And in Australia's land;
With spacious aisles and rising towers,
In noblest splendour stand.
Their glory, pride and grandeur great;
With awe the heart may thrill;
I would but kneel and worship there-
In the Church upon the Hill-

The noble domes of ancient Rome,
Are priceless rare and rich;
Embellish'd works of sculptors famed,
Adorn every niche,
Thro grand facades in countless shades,
Sol sheds his rays at will;
Yet I treasure in my in most heart,
The Church on Freemount Hill.

'Tis but a simple, modest shrine-
No splendour doth it own,
'Twas raised on high in years gone by,
It boasts no lofty dome.
With belfry shaded by the trees,
In notes so sweet and shrill,
On the Sabbath Day it bids us come andpray,
To the Church uPon the Hill'

Here was I cleansed from sin's foul stain,
And here since boyhood days,
Have I as humbly as I might,
Poured out my need of Praise
To him my Maker and my Judge,
And so might it be, until
He calls me to the Great Account,
Then in the Church upon the Hill

The Pastor, lov'd will ask the prayers
Of those assembled there
For me, as for each one of his flock,
Who quit this world of care.
And so 'twill be, while time shall last,
And Michael's trumpet shrill
Resounds-may they ethereal bliss obtain
Who worship in the Church upon the Hill' '. ....

Denis J. Foley,
Glounecomane.
November-21st.---1917.
 

Square Words

(To Miss Hickey, Knahill, by D.J.Foley Freemount.)

A number united is first part I ween,
You oft did the second at your native vale green,
A suggestion is third but neatly transpose,
What means to portend will final disclose,
The parts are quite simple to such a solver as you,
Until 1918 I'll bid you adieu.

Denis J Foley,
Glounecommene.
 

Diamond Square (Old Moore 1916)

(To John E. Fitzgerald, Newmarket, By D. J. Foley, Freemount.
For primal a consonant neatly pen down,
My second's a liquor oft drank in the town,
My fourth I do third it's a dear spot to me,
Behead part of a fruit, fifth you shall see,
A fish for my sixth, I oft caught in yon stream,
A vowel ends my $quare, adieu till 1918.
 

Enigma Ballinaguilla

By the Alloa's stream as I of times stray
And dwell on the scenic beauty of hill and brae
Low lying vale and sweet grassy dell
Lured is my heart as by magic spell
In all this smiling land not a scene so fair
None surpasses this spot so rare
As by sweet Raheen and Knockscovane
Glides the charming Alloa-while the lark-at dawn
Undisturb'd pours out his notes so gay
In yonder brake the thrush pipes his lay
Lov'd tout; so sweet, home of my heart
Ah! my treasur'd ideal and pride thou art.. . ... ..
Denis J. Foley. Glounecommane.
 

Syndicate content