A Cottage of My Own |
An Old Woman of the Roads O, for a wee little cottage! To own the hearth and stool and all! The heaped up sods upon the fire, the pile of turf against the wall! To have a clock with weights and chains and pendulum swinging up and down! A dresser filled with shining delph, speckled and white and blue and brown! I could be busy all the day, clearing and sweeping the hearth and floor, And fixing on their shelf again my white and blue and speckled store! I could be quiet there at night beside the fire and by myself, Sure of a bed and loathe to leave the ticking clock and that shining delph! Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark and roads where there's never a house nor bush, And tired I am of bog and road, and the crying wind and the lonesome hush! And I am praying to God on high, and I am praying Him night and day, For a wee little cottage, a house of my own, out of the night wind's way. -- Padraic Colum |
Granny's Hielan' Hame Away in the hielans there stands a wee hoose, it stands on the breast of the brae, Where we played as laddies sae long, long ago, and it seems it was just yesterday. I can still see my Granny, a smile on her face, as sweet as the heather dew, She kissed me goodbye, wi' a tear in her eye, and said, "Laddie, may God bless you." The heather bells are blooming just outside Granny's door, Where, as laddies there, we played in the days of long ago... 'Neath the shadow of Ben Bhragie and Golspie's loudly stane, How I wish that I could see my Granny's hame again. -- Sandy MacFarlane |
Photos on this page are courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons and the following photographers: Frank Peters dasist jtriefen Marvin_PA t_emilynere Wally Hartshorn wmshc_kiwi monagrrl mpburrows NealyJ ilovebutter jen sr_barao |
An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again! The birds singing gaily, that came at my call... And the peace of mind that's the dearest of all. -- Dyer |
Music: Irish Medley (Can't hear the music?) Friday's Journal Whispers - Home Old New Orleans |
Please don't use the "send page" feature of your computer to send this entire page in an e-mail message format. If you'd like to share it, please use the form below or copy & paste the link onto an e-mail message. The link to this page is: http//www.thepastwhispers.com/cottage.html |
Charles Cumming contacted me after visiting this page and noticing "Granny's Hielan' Hame." I'd always thought the verse was from a poem, but it was actually a song. Mr. Cumming wrote: "The song was written by my great-uncle, Sandy MacFarlane, in the 1920's. Sandy married one of my grandfather's sisters and the song was written about his mother-in-law, my great grandmother. Sandy made his living originally as a mason, who built chimneys, especially on public buildings around Boston during his career, but was an excellent singer who became well known as a radio personality amongst the many Scots and Canadians from Nova Scotia who settled in the area. All but one of Grannie's children emigrated from the tiny village of Embo, on the northeast coast of Scotland before WWI, and settled in and around Boston. Grannie died before WWII and when I was very young (in the 1950's) the seven surviving children sold Grannie's house. Sadly, Grannie's Hielan Hame is no longer a cottage, and barely resembles the family pictures of the old place. Grannie, who my great-uncle made famous in Scotland, is buried with my great grandfather some distance away from their home." |