Sure an' I'm waitin' to hear but the step as him,
Him that's been gone from us year afther year,
He will come back like the picture I've kep' av him,
Smilin' an' gay wid his mirth an' his cheer.
Thrue they are sayin' it's death that has taken him,
But I know betther that knew him so well,
An' it's meself will be huggin' an' shakin' him
Whin he comes back wid fine sthories to tell.
Whin the wind whistles I think it's the thrill av him--
That was the way he would do whin he came.
Why do you sit there an' talkin' so ill av him
Sayin' he's dead--it shud fill ye wid shame?
Yes, I remimber him lyin' here silly-like,
But he was foolin' ye, women an' men,
'Twas but a prank av his, foolish an' silly-like,
Shure he'll be back to his mother again.
Whin the door rattles I think. "'Tis the hand av him
feelin' around fer the latch in the dark,
Whin he comes in I'll be cross an' demand av him
Why he stayed out so late, havin' a lark."
So all the time I am harkin' an listenin,'
hearin' each step an' each sound in the gloam,
Sure me old eyes wid the tears are glistenin'
Thinkin' how glad I'll be whin he comes home!