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The Irish Unionists Farewell To Greta Hellastrom In 1922

Golden haired and golden heartedI would ever have you be,

As you were when last we

Smiling slow and sad at me.

Oh! the fighting down of passion!

Oh! the century-seeming pain-Parting in this off-hand

In Dungarvan in the rain.

Slanting eyes of blue,

Stands my Swedish beauty

Gusts of Irish rain are

Round the statue in the square;

Corner boys against the

Watch us furtively in vain,

And the Angelus is

Through Dungarvan in the rain.

Gales along the Commeragh Mountains,

Beating sleet on creaking signs,

Iron gutters turned to fountains,

And the windscreen laced with lines,

And the evening getting later,

And the ache - increased again,

As the distance grows the

From Dungarvan in the rain.

There is no one now to

What eccentric sits in

While the beech trees rock and

Round his gate-lodge and his gate.

Gone - the ornamental plaster,

Gone - the overgrown

And the car goes fast, and faster,

From Dungarvan in the rain.

Had I kissed and drawn you to

Had you yielded warm for cold,

What a power had pounded through

As I stroked your streaming gold!

You were right to keep us parted:

Bound and parted we remain,

Aching, if unbroken hearted -Oh!

Dungarvan in the rain!

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Sir John Betjeman

Sir John Betjeman CBE (/ˈbɛtʃəmən/; 28 August 1906 – 19 May 1984) was an English poet, writer, and broadcaster. He was Poet Laureate from 1972 u…

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