Volume 158 — HOME-SICKNESS;
Reading edition
or, The Sinn Feiner Abroad.
(After “The Lake Isle of Innisfree,” with sincere apologies to Mr. W. B. Yeats.)
I will arise and go now to Galway or Tralee And burgle someone’s house there and plan a moonlight raid; Ten live rounds will I have there to shoot at the R.I.C. And wear a mask in the bomb-loud glade. And I shall have great fun there, for fun comes fairly fast, Bonfires in the purple heather and the barracks burning fine, There midnight is a shindy and the noon is overcast And evening full of the feet of kine. I will arise and go now, for always in my sleep There comes the sound of rifles and low moans on the shore; I see the sudden ambush and hear the widows weep, And I like that kind of war.
Evoe.