Ireland photo

There’s a green grave in Ireland,
Where my heart lies buried deep;
Where Mary, my fond sweetheart,
Rests in her dreamless sleep:
We loved when both our hearts were young,
And hope throbbed in each breast;
But nevermore has hope been mine
Since Mary sank to rest!

I’ve lived through many weary years,
Since on that summer morn
Sweet Mary gave her farewell kiss
And left me all forlorn:
I hear her sweet voice calling me,
I have not long to stay;
Bright hope will once again be mine
When death bids me away!

There’s a green grave in Ireland,
Where my heart lies buried deep;
Oh, lay me there beside my love,
In my last, dreamless sleep!

Jennie E. T. Dowe in The Century Magazine, October 1889. Photo by martinvonpotsah (Pixabay)