The Irish Unionist’s Farewell to Greta Hellstrom in 1922

Golden haired and golden hearted
I would ever have you be
As you were when last we parted
Smiling slow and sad at me
Oh! the fighting down of passion!
Oh! the century-seeming pain-
Parting in this off-hand fashion
In Dungarvan in the rain

Slanting eyes of blue, unweeping
Stands my Swedish beauty where
Gusts of Irish rain are sweeping
Round the statue in the square;
Corner boys against the walling
Watch us furtively in vain
And the Angelus is calling
Through Dungarvan in the rain

Gales along the Commeragh Mountains
Beating sleet on creaking signs
Iron guttеrs turned to fountains
And the windscreen laced with linеs
And the evening getting later
And the ache; increased again
As the distance grows the greater
From Dungarvan in the rain

There is no one now to wonder
What eccentric sits in state
While the beech trees rock and thunder
Round his gate-lodge and his gate
Gone; the ornamental plaster
Gone; the overgrown demesne
And the car goes fast, and faster
From Dungarvan in the rain

Had I kissed and drawn you to me
Had you yielded warm for cold
What a power had pounded through me
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!