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The Irish Players by Zora Cross

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Coming down to see the play,
Sang my heart the whole brown way
"Fairyland with torches white
Comes to town this little night;
I shall laugh, for I shall see
Dublin laughing home to me."

Then I saw the play and heard
Magic of the spoken word --
Voices out of memory tell
Simple things I loved so well
In the soft, rich tones I knew ...
Ah, my father's eyes were blue!

Did I say the play was good?
It was home. I think I stood
Somewhere in the parlor there,
By Aunt Ellen's straight-backed chair.
Tears were in my eyes to see
Ireland laughing home to me.

First published in The Bulletin, 25 May 1922

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